


An Italian Job (of sorts)

by aellisif



Category: Pet Shop of Horrors
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Reunions, contains meta-discussion of tropes and story, rape/non-con tag does not apply to major characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2019-11-03 20:08:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17884358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aellisif/pseuds/aellisif
Summary: There’s no cars, no chases and no gold involved, but none of that matters, because Leon Orcot’s presence alone is enough to ensure Count D’s blood pressure rises to unexpected levels.And vice-versa.This reunion is definitely not going the way either of them imagined.





	1. Rome, Italy

Of all the possible scenarios, this particular one had never crossed Leon’s mind.

Judging by the wide mismatched eyes, neither had it crossed D’s.

Their host was oblivious to it and so Leon found himself offering his hand to D in an automatic motion and trying to suppress the shudder running through him at the feeling of that slim, elegant hand in his.

Really, the only consolation about all this was that D seemed to be as shell-shocked as he was.

They did not get enough time to betray either their emotions or the fact that they knew each other from before. Leon was almost immediately hustled on towards a cluster of Commissarios while Ottavia Cocuzzi, the host’s wife, steered D in the opposite direction.

Leon followed, too baffled to even turn around and make sure he was not dreaming, that D was really here, that it was really him and not one of his freak relatives (though D’s “son” was likely too young yet).

But damn, he was at the annual get-together of the Roman Polizia di Stato at some or the other golf club just outside of Rome. What the fuck was D doing here? Since when was he even in Italy? Last Leon knew, the bastard had been in Japan! Italy would not exactly have been his first guess, especially not after missing D in Venice.

Yet he was here. Without the slightest possibility of a doubt, because other people commented on the beautiful Chinese pet shop owner as well. Which meant Leon was not hallucinating or suffering of a heatstroke.

He went looking for their host.

“That guy. What’s he doing here?” he said without preamble when he had managed to find and pull the man aside, jerking his head in D’s direction. Paolo Cocuzzi took a sip of his drink, his eyes following the elegant figure.

“I invited Count D because I have it on good authority that our American friend is a frequent customer at the pet shop he owns in the Via Veneto.” He smiled quickly, a not-very-pleasant smile. “In part because I’ve had reports of customers of this shop dying under mysterious circumstances. Most notably our old friend Nikita Kshesinskaya.”

Leon felt like his stomach had just turned to ice. “What was the MO?”

Another sip of wine as Paolo Cocuzzi considered him and his reaction. Leon forced himself to tear his gaze away from D to meet the dark brown eyes. Paolo Cocuzzi smiled. “You are taking a great interest in Count D, Signore Orcot.”

“His grandfather’s pet shop was located in Los Angeles.” Leon chose his words carefully, unwilling to give away too much information. There was a chance Paolo Cocuzzi did not know that D was overseeing the shop for his grandfather, and might assume that Leon only knew D’s family. “They, uh, they look very much alike.”

“Mhm.” Yet another sip of wine. “Well, it is a shame you have no official capacity in Italy. We could use someone who knows a bit more about the family. He’s one slippery fish.”

Leon snorted. “Trust me, I know.”

Paolo Cocuzzi swirled the wine in his glass, giving D a considerate look. “Although, I don’t see why a visitor from abroad would not be able to walk into a local pet shop and have a little chat about a fellow countryman. Do you think you would mind, Signore Orcot?”

He could feel the corners of his mouth quirking up into a grim smile. “I certainly don’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I would give the idea a go, and I’d love to know what you think about it :-)
> 
> Oh, and as you may have perceived already, yes, this is post-canon and blatantly disregardful of Shin. I would be ashamed, except I’m not.
> 
> Also, cross-posted at fanfiction.net.


	2. Rome, Italy

The loud bang had the pets squeaking, shrieking and hissing. D spun around, disturbed in the process of shushing them into the back to make ready for departure, and immediately wished he had hurried home earlier. He should have known what was up when he tried to extricate himself from the party and the host would not let him leave. How Leon had managed to get him to keep D busy until he had found the shop was anyone’s guess, but seeing as he himself had only hurried inside moments ago, it was clear Leon had been waiting somewhere close for his return.

“The fuck are you up to this time, D?”

Dead silence fell in the parlour.

“Leon!” Pon-chan cried out, wriggled free of D’s grasp and ran to hug his legs. He looked down for a moment, distracted, even managed a small smile.

“Hey Pon-chan. How’re you doing?”

He got T-chan by the scruff of his neck before he could bite him and scowled. “Listen, you freak, I don’t mind getting bitten by you when you look like a frigging goat, but no way I’m letting you bite me when you’re like this. So cut it out already, will ya?”

D took a deep breath and willed his muscles to move again. Now that Leon was within the shop’s confines, there was little else but to weather the confrontation. He could not stay forever and the moment he left, D would be able to disappear.

The blue glare hit him the moment Leon dropped T-chan, who sidled away to sulk. “Right, back to topic, D. What the fuck did you get yourself mixed up in now?”

D sniffed and unnecessarily dusted off his robe. “Nothing. I was merely attending an aquaintance’s party. Since when is that illegal?”

Leon growled. “Not what I’m talking about!”

“No? Then what _are_ you talking about, Detective?”

“Agent!” Leon snapped and something landed on the table with a clatter. D leant forward and picked it up, his eyes widening as he took in the logo.

“Interpol? My, Detective! I must say, you have made your way in the world.”

The glare was almost physically hot. “Cut the crap, D. What’s your business with Spencer Donald?”

“Spencer Donald?” D could not help but look surprised and confused for a moment. “Why would I answer that question? You have no jurisdiction in Italy, therefore I am not obliged to tell you anything. Now, if you would kindly remove yourself from the premises …”

“Cut it out. I know you’ve been selling him a number of animals.”

“All of them were perfectly legal,” D pointed out and found himself chagrined at the need to even say it. Interpol or not, Leon did not have any jurisdiction in Italy. What was he _doing,_ anyhow? Working for _Interpol?_ Leon? _Really?_

He did not like to admit it, but meeting Leon at that party, so suddenly and out of the blue, without D even knowing he was in the country, had thrown him more than he had expected. Of course he had known that Leon had been on his trail for the past few years. A few things were becoming a bit clearer now, though. Him working for Interpol answered at the least the question of how he could have found out about some of D’s hide-outs in as little time as he had done. This was going to be a headache.

“I still do not see how it is any of your business, though,” he added for good measure and sat down in his chair. There was the urge to go and prepare tea, but if he was honest, he did not feel like tea, only like bolting. For all his persistence, Leon should never have caught up to him. Should never have been able to. He could only get hurt.

Leon seemed to take him sitting down as an invitation to stalk up and tower over him. D found himself looking up, his heart leaping into his throat. He looked – older. More mature.

More interesting than ever.

D swallowed and almost missed the next few words.

“It is my business because I’m here to assist the Polizia di Stato in arresting Spencer Donald, amongst other things for supposedly having someone named Nikita Kshesinskaya assassinated. That name ring any bells?”

D’s eyes widened. Leon saw, of course. He swore loudly and colourfully while threading his hand through his hair. “D, you can’t fucking go around shacking up with an international criminal and selling your murder pets to people he doesn’t like!”

“I was not aware there was a connection between Nikita Kshesinskaya and Spencer Donald. Really, how could I have known?”

The glare intensified. “How ’bout one being a Russian mafia boss with the other being an international tycoon?”

D glared right back. “I have not seen any reason to inquire into his business relations. He and I talk about his pets, nothing more.” Something else registered and he gasped in outrage. “And I have most certainly not been ‘shacking up’ with him!”

Leon snorted. “Right. What do you call it then when you spend several days at his out-of-town place? I hear it’s a really fancy villa.”

D stuck his nose up in the air. “I was there to assist with the acculturation of a rare bird he had recently purchased.”

“Sure.”

“Detective -”

“It’s either Leon or Mister,” Leon snapped and D frowned at him. “I don’t walk ’round flaunting who I work for, alright? Now, what about Nikita Kshesinskaya? Accident?”

The frown deepened. “The usual. A broken contract. I assure you, Spencer Donald had absolutely nothing to do with his demise.”

If he had expected Leon to calm down at that, he found himself sorely mistaken. If anything, the man now seemed to burst with anger. “D, the fuck, can’t you ever keep your feet still?” he roared. “Listen, I get all the family stuff about taking revenge on humanity and shit, never mind that y’all are fucking nuts if you think selling single pets to a few people is gonna do the job, but can’t you just keep quiet for at least a little while? Until things have calmed down a bit?”

D gawked at him. “Excuse me? Are you telling me how to run my business?”

Leon glowered down at him. “Damn right I am!”

D wanted to rise and found he could not without coming chest to chest with the human. He stayed seated, his heart beating ever more quickly. “It is not up to you to tell me how I go about fulfilling my purpose. Simply because you were permitted one glance at my true nature -” and he now deeply regretted having ever allowed that glance in the first place, “- does not entitle you to lecture me about myself!”

“Listen, we’re beyond the point where it’s only the local police getting suspicious.” Leon leant right into his personal space, hands on the arms of his chair, eyes blazing. “I can’t believe how stupid you’ve been! You already had the FBI on your trail back in the States. And now Interpol’s taken notice of you. How the fuck do you think you’re going to wriggle out of _this?”_

D leant back and smirked. “Interpol or you, Detective Agent?”

“Interpol,” Leon promptly replied, staying exactly where he was, gaze intense and yet, to D, unreadable. He could not make sense of what was happening here, why Leon was reacting the way he was. D raised an eyebrow.

“Dear me, what would Interpol want with an unimportant person like me?”

“Interpol,” said Leon through what sounded like gritted teeth, “keeps track of and monitors certain types of crimes across the whole world to analyse the current trends and provide local police with a backdrop.” It sounded rather like he was repeating a manual, but D could sense that he knew what he was talking about. “That’s what I do these days, D. I look at numbers. Statistics. Crimes from all over the world. I look for similarities in MO, for people who just so happen to turn up certain places, who have connections to other people. And then I write about what I see in the numbers.”

D stared up at him, frozen in his chair. “Oh.”

“Yes, oh.” Leon’s eyes narrowed. “Funnily, your pet shop turns up time and again in different investigations from different countries. Most often in connection with suspicions of exotic animal trade, but you are mentioned several times in connection with people high up on the criminal ladder. And let me tell you, people are wondering. They’re wondering big time who this Count D is who is so cosy with both politicians and big names from the underworld.”

D pursed his lips, trying not to show his growing concern. “They are merely customers and it is fairly easy to establish that they are just that. Why, I hardly see most of them even twice!”

“Which is probably the only reason they haven’t hauled you in yet!” Leon snapped and D flinched slightly. “These are modern-day times, D,” he continued, quite a bit of fury in his voice. “We have computers, we have the internet, we have international organisations with international databases on crime, and people are fucking using them! Simply crossing a few country borders isn’t going to get your neck out of the sling anymore!”

D processed the words, finding himself speechless for a moment as a thought struck. Even when he spoke, he could hardly believe his own words. “Leon, are you – worried about me?”

There was another glare, but no direct answer. D sat, stunned. Finally Leon let go of the chair, turned around and threaded a hand through his hair. “All I’m saying is, you should be more careful who you associate with. Your freak pets are suspicious enough in themselves. Would it kill you to at least try to steer clear of any mafia bosses?”

“You _are_ worried about me,” D said, still stunned but unable to keep his thoughts to himself, now. Leon glanced at him.

“So what if I was?”

“I -” D found himself flustered. He looked at his hands, glanced at Leon very, very quickly, then returned his eyes to his lap. “Why, I am – touched, certainly.”

A snort. “Certainly.”

“Well, what do you expect me to say?” D snapped. “You barge in here like you own the place only to immediately assault me with suspicions of illegal activities _yet again!”_

“Well, I have good fucking reasons to, don’t I?” Leon yelled back.

“And that is all you have to say to me after years and years of chasing me halfway across the world?”

D could not believe he had just said that. He snapped his mouth shut, willing his breath to calm down and ignoring the pets’ stares.

Leon, too, was staring.

“No. No, that’s not all I have to say to you after you _ditched_ me _two fucking times_ to disappear in your fucking flying ark,” he finally said, clearly speaking through gritted teeth. “But since you were so happy to immediately throw yourself back into the same kind of dubious business relationships you had back in LA, maybe my priorities what I need to talk to you about have changed a bit. Taken that into account?”

Uncomfortable silence fell. D looked at his hands, opened his mouth and was about to offer tea when Leon took a deep breath, obviously trying to calm himself. “Anyhow.” The finger stubbed him right in the middle of his chest and D looked down at it, then back up at the fierce expression on Leon’s face. “You stay put for once in your life. Don’t run anywhere before they’ve gotten their hands on Donald. Don’t sell any homicidal pets before they have scratched you off the list of suspected business partners. And most importantly, for fuck’s sake make sure you stay out of any local power grapples! Think you can manage that?”

D blinked before he smirked and pushed the finger away. “Why, Agent Orcot, I really am obliged to you for your guidance on how to keep myself out of trouble. Of course I shall follow it to the letter since you are already going to the lengths of informing me yourself about my precarious situation. I assume, of course, that your superiors know that you are here, talking to a lowly suspected criminal like me and letting me know about their suspicions?”

He fluttered his eyelashes for good measure and Leon blushed angrily. “Fuck you,” he snarled, turned on his heel and stormed out.

D rose and then simply stood for a few moments. The pets started whispering amongst themselves until Pon-chan finally tugged at his cheongsam. “Count? Shall we continue getting ready for departure?”

He heaved a deep sigh and sat back down, rubbing his forehead for a moment. “No. We’re staying.”

“But -”

“Much as I dislike to admit it, T-chan, I am afraid Leon is right for once. I cannot run this time. I need to find out first what the police and Interpol have on me.” D frowned, cursing modern technology once more. Really, it was nothing but trouble! Tracking people across borders and nations, what a ridiculous notion! What an utter invasion of privacy! It was people’s own affair where in the world they decided to be at any odd point in time. Humans!

But in truth, that was not what was worrying him the most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that reunion did not go down as envisaged, did it now?
> 
> Also, for those of you wondering why Leon is working for Interpol, it’s mainly because I couldn’t manage to make S.H.I.E.L.D fit into this fanfic, although I would have loved to hear Leon’s conversations with Tony Stark.


	3. Rome, Italy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For everyone looking for the notes that originally were posted with this chapter, I’ve decided to instead post them all in one single chapter at the end of the story, partly to give people a better chance of skipping them if they aren’t interested. So please refer to the very last chapter from now on if you want to read them :-)

It took Leon three days to enter the pet shop again, the result of a combination of factors. For one, he had actually come here to work, and this was not the LAPD. He could not simply slink off with his chief rolling his eyes at him and Jill smirking like the Cheshire Cat come to life. Secondly, D had seriously pissed him off. _Worried._ As if there was any way he could not be worried about that idiot, prancing about Rome with members of opposing factions while Interpol had a whole file on the shop.

But most importantly, he was too scared of returning to the Via Veneto to find D gone once again. As a matter of fact, he stopped and stared at the familiar sign in some disbelief when he finally made his way there. Then wondered if he should go and buy some sweets. He did, after all, have a favour to ask from D.

In the end, he did not. He simply took a deep breath, steeled himself and pushed the door open to be greeted by a parlour that was so strikingly like the one back in LA that he wondered for a moment if he was dreaming.

Tetsu bit down on his leg and he yelped, grabbing the young man by one horn. “What the fuck have I told you about biting me when you look like that?”

“Mr. Orcot, T-chan has no way of knowing how you perceive him.”

D had come around the curtain and was looking at him with an indecipherable look on his face. No smirk to be seen anywhere, Leon noted. He dropped Tetsu and stepped further in, closing the door behind him. “You’re gonna help me,” he said without any kind of preamble and D stared at him.

“Help you? How exactly might I be of assistance, given that I am apparently under such suspicion? Should you even be asking me for help, considering that? Will I not run off to my mafia friends to spill the beans?”

“You’re gonna take me along to that fundraiser party Spencer Donald is gonna throw tomorrow and help me install a few bugs around his house,” Leon continued as if he had not heard him. D stiffened.

“I will most certainly not do any such thing.”

“Oh yes you will!” Leon stepped up to him and pointed a finger at his chest. “Because if you don’t, you’ll soon find yourself subject to an investigation by more than one country’s law enforcement. If you don’t want that, you had bloody well better put out here, D!”

“In other words, you are trying to blackmail me _again_ into assisting you by threatening me with incarceration!” D snapped back.

Leon shrugged. “Call it whatever you want, but fact is, your name is on the list with suspected business partners of Spencer Donald’s. You’ve never been hesitant in offering your _help_ with active investigations. How ’bout you stick to that policy?”

“I refuse to be blackmailed into betraying a client.”

Leon barked out a laugh. “A client, yeah! You have any idea what kind of business Spencer Donald is running? Maybe he treats the animals he buys well, but do you know what he is up to else?”

D glared at him. “I do not make it my business to nose around in other people’s business.”

“Then I guess you don’t care to know that he is involved in some serious mahogany smuggling? That one of the companies he’s a major stockholder of is most likely responsible for destroying at least five square miles of rainforest a day for palm oil production? That he likely is involved in other serious smuggling activities, involving rhino horn and ivory?”

“To my best knowledge, Spencer Donald runs a very successful international shipping company.” D sat down, thus taking himself out of reach of Leon’s finger, and opened his fan. “That is hardly illegal.”

Leon snorted. “Are you really that naive, D? Of course he runs a shipping company, amongst a few other businesses. All of them are perfectly legal. All of them have perfectly standardised procedures for getting stuff in and out of countries.” He crossed his arms. “Only problem is, not all of the stuff they’re transporting is legal.”

D regarded him coolly. “And why would I care about that?”

Leon found himself engaging in a very, _very_ familiar activity – glaring at D full force. “You of all people should be dancing with joy that we’re trying to take him out. Weren’t you the one always complaining about what humans are doing to this planet? Well, forget the small fish like Jason Grey or Mrs. Hayward. Spencer Donald is a whole new category of eco-criminal. Someone who has so far managed to make sure he’s untouchable by sticking to every law imaginable and blaming everything on employees further down the line, even when it’s crystal clear someone high up the chain must be involved. He’s running a whole fucking transport system for other people’s illegal goods, diverting it and disguising it in such a way that it’s almost impossible to track the stuff down, and if we manage, half of the time we have no clue who it originally belonged to. It’s like fucking DHL for criminals.”

D snapped his fan shut and used it to point at Leon’s chest. He eyed it, fairly certain that this was not something people with fancy fans (and manners) were supposed to be doing. “Provided that what you say is true, no, I certainly would not mind Spencer Donald being ‘taken out’. I do mind, however, your attempt at doing so alone, without any kind of back-up or even permission!”

Leon pushed the fan away and snorted. “FYI, I _have_ permission. It’s all cleared with the local chief. They need someone from the outside.”

D blinked. “Why would they? I am certain the Commissarios with the Polizia di Stato are perfectly capable of handling yet another criminal. They do have a certain amount of practice.”

“They also have a mole in their team.” Leon watched it sink in with some satisfaction before he concluded, “Why d’you think they asked Interpol to send someone?”

D opened his mouth, then shut it again. Then spoke. “To my best knowledge, Interpol is an organisation that provides a network for law enforcement to work together across borders. They do not provide undercover agents.”

Leon shrugged. “Well, they don’t. Usually.”

Now D was glaring at him. “Detective, please do tell me you have not embarked on a private vendetta against Spencer Donald and are using your status to cover for it.”

“The only one I have a vendetta against is you!” Leon snapped and immediately bit his lip as something suspiciously resembling hurt passed over the pale face.

A fraction of a second later, D was only showing him his generic smirk. “I should have known. Of course you would do something stupid and dangerous. Will you ever learn?”

Leon considered setting him right about the vendetta remark and decided in favour of getting D sorted out on what he wanted him to do. There was too little time left to bother about personal grudges that really were no grudges at all. “Don’t be stupid, D, the only thing I’m supposed to be doing is to smuggle a few bugs into his house while he’s busy with other things during that party. It’s not stupid, it’s not dangerous, and I get to do it ’cause Chief Cocuzzi can’t be sure if the guys he already has on the inside have been spotted already. I’m doing it so they can stay safe. And hopefully undetected.”

D stared at him. “That is an utterly imbecilic plan. If there is a mole on the team, what does it matter whether the inside spies also plant bugs in the house? He will know about their true identity already.”

He could not help the groan. “Fucking hell, D, do you have any clue about how such undercover operations work? It’s not exactly like they told him their real names when they started working for him, or like their pictures are up on the walls at the station. He may suspect them, but if he actually knew who they are, they would be dead by now.”

D sniffed. His nose scrunched up and Leon stared at it for a moment. “I still do not see how asking you to undertake this is less of a risk than having his own men do it.”

“A. The bugs would need to be delivered to them in some way or the other, putting them at risk of discovery. B. They will need to plant the bugs, possibly in places that they aren’t allowed into, which will put them at risk of discovery. C. If the bugs are discovered, everyone who has had the opportunity to plant them will be under suspicion, thus putting them at risk of discovery.” Leon was using the same voice he had sometimes used to explain something to Chris, and D could tell, if his glare was any indication. “So I will be planting the bugs during an occasion when the house is full of people who don’t go in there on a regular basis, thus making everyone who attended the party a potential suspect, which in turn takes the focus off whoever is on the inside already. Make more sense to you now?”

There was a short silence before D spoke again. “I don’t like it.”

Leon snorted. “You don’t have to like it. You only have to do it.” He turned around. “Listen, I know you got an invitation to that party. I have it on good authority, so don’t try to deny it.”

“I had no intention of doing so,” D snapped, standing. “Where are you going, Detective?”

He spun around to glare at D once more. “ _Mr. Orcot,_ D. And I am going back to the local Interpol HQ to finish analysing the data that came in last night so that even if the bugs fail at picking up something of value, we _might_ stand a chance to at least stop the next delivery before it comes into the country.”

D was thrown, he could tell by the expression on his face. “But -”

“This is not LA,” Leon cut him off. “I have a job to do, a job I have only thanks to _you,_ and I’m damn well gonna get at least that right, okay?”

D said nothing and Leon wanted to bite his tongue off. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow evening at half past seven.”

He left, ignoring the little blond girl peeking around the corner of the sofa with tears in her eyes. Damn. He had imagined this to be way different. He wanted to sit down with D, drink some tea, talk it through, get a few questions answered, give him Chris’s bloody drawing.

Why did D have to go and get himself mixed up with Spencer Donald?

It was all turning out completely wrong, and Leon could not pretend that Interpol file did not exist. He hoped D understood that he was only trying to keep him safe.

* * *

Whether it was clear to Leon or not, D knew what he was doing.

Leon was shielding him.

D felt a little bit like throwing up. It was one thing, stoking people’s desires and manipulating them into acquiescing to D. It was another thing to corrupt someone like Leon, someone so pure and single-minded and utterly beautiful, until he was a mere shadow of his former self, willing to go against his own beliefs and morals for the sake of a creature like D. He had promised himself, watching Chris leave, that with the departure of the child, he would remove himself from Leon’s presence and hope that whatever damage had been wrought already could be repaired.

Of course, he had not taken into account Father and his machinations.

D sighed and rubbed his forehead. T-chan crawled into his lap and he started stroking him. “I should not have saved him. Then he would not be following me now.”

They had had that conversation a number of times already. Pretty much every single time Leon had discovered them. Tetsu sighed a little, putting his head on D’s shoulder. “You could not let him die. That is alright, Count. Nobody’s blaming you for that.”

“I never wanted him to stray from his path, T-chan,” D continued as if he had not heard, burying his fingers in the fur. “I swear I never did.”

Tetsu sighed again. “People make choices, Count. You make choices. So does Leon.”

“But -”

“He’s made a choice you don’t like, fine. We all know that. I bet even _he_ knows that. I mean, he may be a bit dense at times, but he’s certainly not dense enough to not understand why you pushed him off the ship.”

“He should not be following me.” D’s fingers tightened in the fur. “He should not be trying to _protect_ me from his fellow human officers!”

“Yeah well, not like he ever cared much about what he was supposed to be doing, did he?” Tetsu winched. “Ouch.”

The fingers stopped tugging at his fur and started stroking him instead. “People like Leon are so precious, T-chan. They are the only chance at redemption the human race has.” D bit his lip, blinking quickly. “And I have corrupted him.”

“He didn’t exactly put up a lot of a fight while you were,” Tetsu said dryly. “Actually, I rather got the impression he was really into it. Uncomfortable about it at times, yes, but still into it.”

D blushed and did not reply. Tetsu sighed once more, turned around and looked up at him. “Don’t you think that Leon agrees with you to some extent? He’s a police officer, after all. He’s seen the nasty side of people more often than not. It’s not exactly as if he’s never arrested or killed someone himself.”

“He may approve in principle, but certainly not of the methods employed.” D let his head sink forward until his chin touched his chest. “And what now? Now that he has proof that he can actually catch up to me? He will never stop looking for me now.”

He caught Tetsu’s eye-roll and glared at him. Unsurprisingly, he was not impressed. It really was most annoying how much he and Leon resembled each other at times like this, and how little D was able to stay angry at them.

“Well, there is a way around that, you know. Sitting down with him and explaining to him why he cannot stay in the shop. C’mon, Count, he’s not _that_ unreasonable!”

D wrinkled his nose. “He does not appear to be in much of a mood for explanations.”

“ _You’ve_ never been in much of a mood to provide him with explanations,” Tetsu said flatly. “Don’t blame it on him. You enjoy messing with his head, we all know you do, and we all know why you do.”

It felt like he was blushing from tip to toe. “Excuse me!”

“Oh, come on, be honest.” Tetsu held his gaze. “If it wasn’t for your guilt complex about corrupting Leon, you’d be all over him by now, flirting like there’s no tomorrow. You _love_ the fact that he’s following you, even when you know you should stop him for his own good.”

“I do most certainly not!” D snapped, annoyed beyond words at the implications in Tetsu’s words. Soft snickers and chuckles around the parlour had him glaring at the other pets as well. Pon-chan rolled her eyes at him. D picked Tetsu up and set him to the floor. “I will be in my rooms, and I do not wish to be disturbed,” he said icily.

More chuckles followed him along the way, and D found himself contemplating simply leaving the shop behind when he left this time. After all, no shop, nothing for Leon to look for.


	4. Rome, Italy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today’s menu consists of the first part of the fundraiser party chapter, and it’s long, so please be forewarned. Notes on tropes are going to be posted in their own separate chapter from now on, so if you are interested, go to the very last chapter to find them :-)

This was going to end in a disaster. D just knew it.

For about the hundredth time, he adjusted his cheongsam while glaring at himself in the mirror. Tetsu groaned and turned over on the sofa. “You look good, Count.”

“I know!” he snapped, then closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “My apologies. I am – a little strained.”

“Sure. Strained.”

Before he had time to snap again, the door was opened and he turned towards it, plastering on his smile.

It disappeared at the wholly unexpected sight of Leon Orcot in a form-fitting tuxedo. “You ready to go, D?”

His eyes travelled over the long, long legs, the broad chest encased in a white shirt and framed elegantly by the lapels of the jacket, up to where Leon was glaring at him from eyes that appeared even brighter with the black and white to offset their deep, rich blue.

“Yes,” he said faintly, reaching for his purse and fan. “I am ready.”

“Good.” Leon turned on his heel and walked out of the door. D stood stunned for another moment until Pon-chan pushed him into the backs of his knees.

“Go already!” she ordered.

So he did. There was a taxi waiting out front, with Leon standing right beside it. D turned back to the door and pretended to lock it. It was mainly to keep himself from staring at Leon some more. By the time he had regained his composure, Leon had opened the door for him, but walked around the car to get into his own seat. D slipped into the seat, heart pounding and light-headed.

“You got that invitation with you?”

Silently, D handed it over and Leon leant forward to show the address to the driver. Within moments, they were off, swallowed up by the buzzing Rome traffic. Leon handed the invitation back to him. “You okay?”

D was jolted out of his stupor and cleared his throat. “Of course. Why should I not be alright?”

A shrug. “Dunno. You look kinda spooked.”

He almost blurted out that anyone would be spooked at seeing Leon dressed up as he was now, but thought better of it. He had a feeling it would not come out the right way. Instead he put his smile back on and found his fan. “So -”

“Right, as what are you gonna introduce me?”

D sniffed, annoyed at having been interrupted. “Isn’t it a bit late to come up with a cover story for you, De- Leon?”

“Late would be while you’re introducing me. So, who am I?”

He fluttered his lashes. “Who would you like to be?”

Leon growled at him. “Stop playing games! This is a mission, so take it seriously!”

“Fine!” D patted at his hair. “It would be simplest to introduce you as an old acquaintance from my time in the United States. Which is the utter truth. You have come over here for a, ah, surprise visit, and not having been notified of your arrival beforehand, I took you along. Will that do?”

Leon snorted. “Surprise visit?”

“It is as close to the truth as possible.” D retreated behind his haughty behaviour as much as he could, the effect slightly marred by the taxi jolting as their driver cursed colourfully in Italian at another driver. “As for your occupation, I suggest we skip that part.”

“What if someone asks?”

“This was your idea in the first place. Why haven’t you thought about it?” D replied, gladly falling back on vexation. Leon pondered for a moment, then grinned.

“Do people bring their aides to this kind of event?”

He blinked. “Why, yes, some of them do. After all, fundraisers are rarely only organised for the purpose they boast. They are as much business meetings as social events.”

The grin grew. “Alright. I’ve come over to start working for you, then.”

“What?”

Leon was smirking at him now and D willed his racing heart to calm down. “What? It’s easy enough to explain. Someone my age, you can always chalk it up to wanting to see a bit more of the world before settling down. Having a pal who already works abroad is a prime opportunity to get out of the country for a bit.”

“Signores?” The warning came a second to late. They were thrown against their seatbelts as the car came to a screeching stop. Their driver turned around and grinned at them. “We’re arrived.”

Leon muttered something akin to “We noticed” under his breath while D found his purse and paid. To his surprise, Leon opened the door and waited for him to get out. There were a number of other cars around, mostly limousines, and D thought for a fleeting moment that he should have arranged for one to pick them up as well. It had completely slipped his mind though, flustered as he had been by everything. They ascended the steps after a couple he recognised as South African by their garb and passed by the first pair of guards at the doors. Leon kept his face carefully blank, but once they were past, he let out a breath. “Lots of security. This won’t be easy. Do you recognise any of them?”

“Why would I?” D smiled at the tastefully dressed lady asking the arrivals for their invitations and handed it over. She looked at a list and smiled. “Count D. Mr. Donald was not expecting you with a guest.”

“I am so sorry, Signora. I must have forgotten.”

She made a note and nodded at them. “The ballroom is straight through.”

Leon had been busy taking in their new surroundings, and D contemplated elbowing him to keep him from staring too openly. However, a lady behind them was just gushing about the huge marble staircase leading up to the first floor, so he let it go. Leon’s intense attention to the staircase in question could be ascribed to her outlining the architectural values of such a feature.

“How much’s this place cost?” Leon mumbled in the corner of his mouth as they walked under the first-floor balcony and approached the winged, open doors into the main dining room of the house. D smiled.

“More than you will ever earn in your life. This palazzo is about 200 years old, modelled after a bishop’s residence from Renaissance times.”

There was another muttered remark that D could not quite make out, and then they were already entering the dining room, which really was more like a dining hall. Spencer Donald and his wife were strategically positioned close by the door, but not so close as to prevent their guests from taking in the grandeur of the marble columns lining the walls, the fresco paintings on the walls and the clouds of guests already milling about before meeting the master of the house. Leon drew a sharp breath and D glanced at him, but he was keeping his face neutral.

“Count D!” Spencer Donald himself was as much of a stereotypical American Conservative business tycoon as Leon was of a run-down detective, and for a moment, D was intensely amused at the thought of Leon’s reaction to that comparison. He shook the proffered hand and smiled.

“Spencer. So kind of you to send me an invitation, and may I express my appreciation of your decor?”

He was rewarded with a broad grin. “Thank you, thank you. One does try, you know. You know my wife, of course.”

D bent over the hand and tried not to gag at the perfume. “Signora, you are as charming as usual.”

In truth, he held no great opinion of the failed starlet Spencer Donald was currently married to. It was not helped by the fact that when he rose, he found Leon looking at them rather intently. Spencer Donald turned to him. “I don’t think we’ve met before.”

Leon accepted the handshake, managing a tight smile which made D wonder how much it cost him. “Leon Orcot. Pleased to meet you.”

“Spencer, please allow me to offer my apologies for bringing an unexpected extra guest,” D cut in smoothly, placing a hand on Leon’s arm and cutting the handshake rather short. “He is an old friend from the States, come over to visit me. I confess I forgot about it when I sent the RSVP.”

Spencer Donald looked at the two of them, at D’s hand still touching Leon’s arm where it now hung loosely at his side, and smirked. “My dear Count, no need to apologise. I am always happy to meet friends of yours, especially if they happen to be American. Mr. Orcot, let me introduce you to my wife, Shanice.”

The smile was a little warmer this time and D wanted to step on Leon’s foot. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Donald.”

She tittered, her eyes flitting between them as well. “Welcome to our house, Mr. Orcot. Please feel at home.”

“Thank you.”

“Indeed, Count, I can only second Shanice.” Spencer Donald was speaking more quietly now, more to D than to Leon, but there was no doubt that he could hear the next words as well. “And please consider yourself free to leave at any time. I would not want to keep you from enjoying such a delightful visitor.”

Leon stared at him, D bit down on his tongue and managed to keep his smile going. “You are too scrupulous, Spencer. I assure you, Mr. Orcot considers himself very lucky to be able to attend tonight.”

To D’s great relief, Leon turned to follow him without a word and waited until they were safely out of hearing range before hissing, “What the hell was that about?”

D found his fan and opened it. “Leon, you are not stupid, despite your best attempts to make the world believe you are. You know exactly what he was implying.”

Leon glowered. “And just how did he get that idea? Who’ve you been hooking up with around here?”

D returned the look defiantly. “Really, considering everything you know about me, do you still subscribe to the notion that I would ever wish to engage in that kind of relationship with a human?”

It took Leon a moment longer than D would have expected to answer, and the subject change was unexpected as well. “So, did you recognise any of the guards?”

D blinked at him, then shook his head. “No.”

“Does Donald usually have Russian bouncers ’round here?”

“No.” He wrinkled his nose. “What makes you think they are Russian?”

Leon frowned in concentration and ignored his question. “Okay. That’s good. If they’ve only been hired for tonight, they won’t know much about the household. The guest rooms are on the first floor, his private rooms on the second, that right?”

“Yes.” D stared, wondering what Leon was getting at. He took a deep breath and threaded a hand through his hair, still tied up in a ponytail. For some reason, the tuxedo made it look more like a lion’s mane than ever. D swallowed.

“We need to wait till later in the evening to plant the bugs, preferably between ten and eleven. That leaves us with some two hours to kill.”

D lifted an eyebrow. “This is a fundraising event, Leon. We are supposed to walk around the room, look at the exhibits and write our bids on sheets of paper. There is no need to keep standing here and bide our time.”

He received a glare. “Fine, so I don’t know how things like this work. That’s why I asked to tag along with you.”

D’s stomach gave a flutter. He cleared his throat. “Around this room and the garden, there are several items on display, mostly donations by the guests themselves.” He found his purse and took a few slips of paper from it. “One writes a sum on these and puts them in the little box by the item. At around half past ten, the guests will be asked to assemble here and the highest bidder for each item will be announced.” He shrugged. “In between, guests are expected to make connections by talking to other guests, consume food from the buffet and enjoy whichever beverages are offered. I expect the string quartet over there is soon going to provide some music as well for those who wish to dance.”

Leon glanced over to where long tables were set out, covered by white cloth and displaying a range of food. “Right. So we basically just walk around and talk to people?”

D smirked. “Yes, although I have to inform you that I will likely be asked to dance. Several of my customers are amongst the guests tonight, and whether you agree with me or not, I am here to endorse my business.”

He received a piercing stare from narrowed eyes, turned around and made eye contact with a waiter. The man sailed over noiselessly and offered his tray to him, informing him in a quiet murmur of the choices available. D took his time, knowing Leon was fuming behind his back, before finally selecting a very sweet, very expensive grape juice and a glass of red wine. He turned back to Leon, ignoring the waiter, who silently sailed on his way.

Leon frowned at him. “You could at least have said thank you.”

“Not at an event like this.” He smiled and handed Leon the glass. “I would probably give the poor man a heart attack if I decided to acknowledge him as more than a piece of furniture.”

“Fucking snobs,” Leon muttered into his glass, but to D’s surprised delight, only took a tiny sip of the wine.

“Please do leave the talking up to me,” he said, mainly to cover his surprise. “You have no desire to be discovered, do you?” Leon snorted and D raised a brow. “And do refrain from making these or similar undignified noises.”

Leon was about to say something, but apparently thought better of it. A second later D knew why. He turned around, welcoming the approaching woman with a smile. “Signora Brunetti. What a delight. I hope Petruchio is doing well.”

He could almost hear the snort swallowed with another sip of wine.

* * *

They had been drifting around the room for approximately twenty minutes, Leon sticking to his instructions and letting D field most of the questions, when the first few tentative notes of music wove into the general chatter. Heeding the signal, people not wanting to dance started drifting away from the middle of the room, leaving several pairs, amongst them the Donald couple. D found Leon watching them while he himself chatted amicably with another of his customers until the man’s wife found him and coaxed him towards the dance floor. He turned his attention back to Leon and found him smiling slightly, one finger tapping the wine glass. At D’s questioning gaze, he blushed ever-so-slightly. “This is actually kinda nice. I wouldn’t mind taking a round or two with some of the girls here.”

Within a second, D had found an icy stare in his repertoire. “Your appreciation of the ladies present aside, you cannot simply walk around and ask them to dance.”

Leon looked taken back. “Why not? FYI, I know how to ballroom-dance. At least I’d have something to do while you sweet-talk all those snobs.”

D almost reeled. “What?”

Leon rolled his eyes. “Hello? American teen? High school proms? Don’t wanna make a fool of yourself there. So I learnt.”

D’s spine felt like it was made of metal. “Your mastery of ballroom-dancing notwithstanding, this is not the place where you may simply walk up to any woman you happen to take a fancy to and ask her to dance. Most of them are here with their partners or husbands.”

“And?”

D glowered. “Men from other cultures around the world do not take kindly to their companions being propositioned by another male.”

Leon blinked. “You mean, they’re gonna deck me if I simply ask their wife for a dance?”

D bit his tongue, took a deep breath and only spoke when he thought himself in command of his voice. “They may feel inclined to do more than simply ‘deck’ you, De- Leon. I assure you, you would not like the experience.”

The blue eyes betrayed revulsion. “Sick.”

“Different,” D returned and Leon glared.

“No. Sick. It’s no one else’s business who a woman wants to dance with.”

“Coming from you, this is truly what I would call ‘irony’.” D turned away and found his arm grabbed. Leon turned him back to stare him in the eyes.

“Come again?”

D avoided his gaze, instead looked at his collar. “Having heard plenty of your comments on and about women, I have to inform you that you do not exactly come across as a prime example for advocating equal rights.”

Leon gawked. “What? The hell? You – what the heck does one have to do with the other?”

“Well, with the exception of a few choice examples, women are nothing but potential sex partners for you, are they not?”

Leon stared, clearly confused. “So? Yes, I think about sex when I see an attractive woman. What about it?”

D snorted. “Is that not enough? You constantly reduce half of humanity to nothing more than a -”, he changed his mind about what he was about to say and finished a bit lamely with, “- meat on display.”

The expression changed from confused to bemused and finally to a glare. “Like they treat me any different!”

D sputtered in outrage. “Excuse me?”

Leon’s grip on his arm tightened. “You seriously think I don’t know why half of my girlfriends hooked up with me in the first place? I look good. That’s all. That’s it. They wanted to bang me just as badly as I wanted to bang them. Well, it’s no surprise that didn’t work out in the long run, is it?”

D blinked. “But -”

The blue eyes were fierce. “You ever, even once, heard me call a girl a slut?”

He was tempted to reprimand Leon for his choice of vocabulary, but instead found himself shaking his head mutely.

“Or call my exes bitches for dumping me for another man?”

D almost bit his lip at the memory of Leon sitting in the shop, smoking cigarette after cigarette, too downcast to even rise to any bait D tried to throw his way. He shook his head.

“Or gossip about who the girls at work are sleeping with?”

He sputtered. “Excuse me? How would you even know about that?”

Leon rolled his eyes. “Oh for – D, what do you think the term ‘office fuck’ means?”

He glared. “Until just now, I was not even aware it existed.”

Leon’s expression was – almost fond. “Figures.”

For some reason, it only riled D up more. He finally pulled his arm free of the hand and stuck his nose up. “What was I even expecting of someone who plasters the walls of his apartment with half-naked women?”

Leon groaned, his head falling forward. “Not that again! For fuck’s sake, D! I’m a human male, I’m hard-wired to respond to female bodies. Do you blame a male tiger for responding to a female tiger?”

D averted his gaze and glared at a column. “That is different.”

“It’s not.”

“Of course it is!” he snapped. “A male tiger usually does not stare at or take pleasure from looking at pictures of female tigers.”

“Wait until cats invent photography.” Leon grinned at the outraged glare D was sending him. “What? They don’t recognise pictures as pictures, do they? Of course they wouldn’t react to pictures then.”

“It is utterly degrading to those women.”

Leon held up his hands. “Okay, fair enough, pornography can be degrading. However, if you ever cared to notice, all of my posters were from magazines that at least paid those girls good money for letting them take pictures of them. And I’ll have you know that I’ve arrested more than one woman over the course of years for public indecency. Some of them are _into_ that kind of thing.”

It was not fair of Leon to discuss this topic in such a reasonable, grown-up fashion when years ago, he would simply have yelled at D to mind his own business and leave him be. It threw D more than he could tell. He sniffed, retreating to the last stand. “Your choice of reading material? How do you explain that, then? You don’t want me to believe that you find that rubbish intellectually stimulating.”

Leon was starting to look absolutely livid and D felt a flash of relief at finally getting a familiar response. “I read them exactly because they don’t require me to think! Fuck’s sake, D, what do you expect from me? I come home after twelve, fourteen, sometimes sixteen-hour-days, having done nothing all day but run around and collect evidence or interrogate people. Well, excuse me if I don’t feel like studying Nietzsche then!”

“Nobody is asking you to study Nietzsche. All I’m asking of you is to read something other than Penthouse.”

“D, I’m not having that discussion with you in the middle of a fancy fundraising party.”

The words ‘where we are actually supposed to be planting bugs in the host’s rooms’ were not spoken aloud, but D caught them nevertheless and lowered his eyes. This was at least the third time Leon had completely thrown him today, enough for him to forget that whatever else his faults, he was very serious about his job.

They stood quietly for a few moments before Leon sighed and tugged at his ponytail, probably conscious that he would mess his hair up too much if he threaded a hand through it. “Okay, I won’t ask anyone to dance. Still, you mentioned earlier that you might have to dance. So how does that work, then?”

D took a calming breath. “I do not ask. The women ask me.”

Leon frowned. “And that’s okay?”

He nodded. “They will be customers of mine, which removes any suspicions of ulterior motives.”

The look he received was clearly unbelieving. “Are you kidding me? How is arranging new business deals not an ulterior motive?”

He was immensely relieved to be able to roll his eyes at Leon. “That is the whole purpose of tonight’s event, so while it may be considered an ulterior motive under other circumstances, tonight it is the ultimate goal. That is another reason why I may dance with the women present, whereas you may not. People here don’t know you. They don’t know what your business is, what you are offering or selling, so if you were to approach any women here, other motives would come to mind first. Motives that would get you into trouble.”

Leon stared at him for a bit before taking a rather large sip of his wine. “That’s way too complicated for me.”

D sighed inaudibly. “I know.”

“Right, let me get this straight: It is not okay for me to ask a woman to dance for the fun of it, but it is alright for them to ask you, so long they can somehow convince their husbands that they’re not just trying to grope you for a little.”

D blushed. “They will most certainly not grope me, Leon! Really! You and your dirty imagination!”

Leon tilted his head in the direction of a cluster of women assembled in front of what was, D supposed, a prime example of modern art. Personally, he credited Chris with more drawing abilities than the artist responsible for that picture. “They have been eyeing you up and down for at least ten minutes now, and judging by where they were looking, they wouldn’t mind groping you.”

D glared and took a sip of his juice. Leon snickered. “Yeah, right. What was that about me acting like women are only meat on display?”

“I refuse to discuss this topic any further.”

He shrugged. “Fine with me, ’s long as you admit that I’ve got a point. Anyhow, so why have any dancing at all if it’s not for fun?”

D turned his attention back to the dancers, relieved to be able to change topics. “There is no unwritten rule against dancing with people one is already acquainted with or one’s own companion. It is one way of reinforcing social bonds. Of course, it would be unwise to spend all evening dancing with just one person, and rather defy the purpose of the event, but there is a certain expectation that people from cultures where dancing is common will dance with their companions at least once.”

He had expected some snide remark on the snobbery of the company present, but to his surprise, there was nothing. He looked to the side. Leon’s expression betrayed shock and disbelief. “They – please don’t tell me they expect the two of us to dance.”

D flushed, his whole body flooded with warmth. “Of course not!” he hissed. “Take a look around you! Do you have any idea how many people in this room come from countries where homosexuality is punishable by prison or even death? Were we to dance here, we would cause a scandal. I don’t think that is what you had in mind for tonight, did you?”

Leon, to his everlasting chagrin and humiliation, looked relieved. “Oh. Good. No, of course not.”

D pursed his lips, uncertain what to feel. The next question threw him again.

“Right. Do you think you can sneak a dance with Shanice Donald?”

He blinked. “Excuse me?”

Leon nodded towards the doors. “We need some more info about tonight’s security before we actually go upstairs. Who’s going to stay the night, too. Just – you know. Info. So, since I’m apparently not allowed anywhere near her -” D could not quite suppress the smirk and Leon glowered at him for a moment, “- you’ll have to do all of that. Think you can manage?”

He huffed. “Really, Leon, whose job is this, yours or mine?”

Leon raised his eyebrows and D looked away. “I can certainly try. I am sure Mrs. Donald would not mind dancing with me.”

Now Leon smirked. “As a matter of fact, I’m pretty sure she won’t.”

D held on to his purse and fan and told himself once more that this was not the right situation to be yelling at Leon. “What are you going to do in the meantime?”

Leon shrugged. “I guess I’ll be getting myself some food and take a look at the garden.”

“Do not fill your plate to the brim!”

He earnt himself an eye-roll with that. “Christ, D! You’ve been harping on me about shit like that for years. You really think I don’t know the theory by now?”

He opened his mouth and closed it, blushing. “I will go find Shanice Donald. It might take me some time, though. I expect I shall be asked to dance by other women as well once I have danced with her.”

Leon smirked again. “Off you go.”

* * *

Five dances and an interlude with Spencer Donald and a few select guests later, D found Leon close by the buffet, chatting away with some of the women who had earlier been looking at the modern art piece. His mood did not improve upon observing how cheerfully they laughed together. Smiling blankly, he stepped up to them. “My dear Leon, my apologies for leaving you alone for such a long time.”

“Hi D.” Leon grinned at him, that broad, charming grin that had made D’s heart flutter even back in Los Angeles. “You had fun?”

“Of course,” he rejoined, sizing up the women. They were not known to him, but he noticed with relief that all of them were middle-aged ladies, with the exception of one girl that looked hardly older than fourteen. The kind of company which would not invite immediate suspicion. Leon, following his gaze, indicated the lady right next to him. “D, I’d like you to meet Carla Pomillo and her daughter Donatella.”

He shook hands and Leon moved on. “Astrid Peterson, Count D.”

She was clearly Scandinavian, almost as tall as Leon and equally blond and blue-eyed.

“And Carmen Nieto. She has donated that little eagle figurine you took a liking to.”

“I am pleased to make your acquaintance,” D murmured, shaking her hand as well and wondering just when Leon had learnt the right way to go about introducing people. To be fair, it was not perfect, but the group seemed relaxed enough for him to get away with it nonetheless. “I cannot imagine how you can bear to part with that figurine, Signora Nieto. It is a work of art.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Count D. I am happy to be able to donate it to such a noble cause, though, as I prefer watching live specimen in the wild. Perhaps you understand. I take it you own a pet store?”

“My grandfather does, Signora. I am merely taking care of it while he is abroad.” Donatella was sending shy glances at Leon, who gave her a kind smile. “You must have travelled quite a bit yourself. There are not many places left where one can still observe eagles in the wild.”

She laughed as Astrid Peterson, with characteristic Scandinavian straightforwardness, said, “Travelled a bit doesn’t quite begin to touch it, Count D. It is a surprise her husband still knows what she looks like.”

So those two knew each other. D acquired another glass of grape juice from a passing waiter and kept the conversation going while Leon and Donatella sneaked away to the buffet to help themselves to another plate each and then stood, the girl blushing and smiling, Leon with the air of an older brother entertaining a younger sister. D could not quite help the annoyance flaring up. To his relief, Carla Pomillo kept a close eye on her daughter as well and cleared her throat when she saw she was finished with her food. “Signore Orcot is very kind, Count D, to entertain Donatella. I’m afraid she does not feel particularly at home here.”

“Well, she is probably the youngest in the room.” Astrid Peterson took a sip from her wine. “Maybe we should take her out into the garden, Carmen, what do you think? She might like that.”

“I’m sure she would,” D agreed readily and watched as Carla Pomillo collected her daughter and thanked Leon. Astrid Peterson held out her hand.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Count D. If you ever happen to pass by Copenhagen, drop me a line and I will take you out to Hart Bageri. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”

He smiled brightly at her. “I will make sure to do so, Signora Peterson.”

Leon returned to his side with a new glass of wine as the three women left, still grinning and looking fairly at ease. D lifted an eyebrow and he rolled his eyes and shrugged. “C’mon, she’s thirteen! You don’t want to tell me I can’t even talk to a kid young enough to be my daughter without someone getting pissed off?”

D sighed. “No, of course nobody is going to take offence at that, especially since her mother was nearby all of the time.”

“So, have you figured out how to get upstairs?” Leon took a sip of his drink, carefully maintaining the appearance that they were only having a casual, if somewhat private conversation. D huffed.

“The first floor is off limits to everyone except a few chosen guests tonight.”

Leon nodded. “Figures. Who are they?”

D indicated them with delicate glances. “Mohammed Rahman, a high-ranking judge from Malaysia. Slamet Bowo and Hadi Purnama, member of the Indonesian government and head of one or the other regional police forces, respectively. Yong Wei, delegate from the Chinese government, and lastly, Earl J. Cuyler. I’m told he’s working for US customs, although I am not sure in which capacity.”

Leon’s expression turned grim for a moment before he carefully restored a cheerful mien. “Well, whatever position he has, I’m gonna bet you 100$ that’s not the only job he’s doing there.”

D silently agreed. “Well, what now?”

Leon pulled his lower lip between his teeth and D’s eyes went wide for a moment, unable to look away. Then the lip came loose and he blinked hastily, trying to focus. “What about the girls?”

D coughed. “Excuse me?”

Leon tilted his head in the direction of Hadi Purnama, surrounded by two women in slightly out-of-place attire. “Them. They’re high-profile prostitutes. Donald probably hired them to keep his special guests entertained.”

He was about to say something when the blond woman put her hand on Purnama’s chest and threw her head back with a laugh. Her dress split along the front, permitting Purnama deep insight into her cleavage. D turned his head away. “What about them?”

“Well, how do the bouncers know which of the girls may go upstairs?” Leon gave him an impatient glare. “There needs to be some sort of sign.”

“Oh.” D collected himself and ran through the conversations he had had. “I believe Spencer Donald has given them something – a wafer or ticket or something the like?”

“Right.” Leon frowned, pondering it for a moment. D took the opportunity to study his features more closely. He had had little time to do that so far. The four additional years suited Leon. His jawline had become more pronounced, his eyes had garnered a few crow’s feet, but they only served to give him the air of someone who liked to smile. He had matured well.

“Well, you’ll have to get your hands one of those wafers, then.”

D stared in consternation, jolted from his thoughts. “Excuse me?”

Leon shrugged. “We need to get upstairs. Ergo, we need one of those wafers. I’m sure none of the girls’ll say no if you ask them to dance with you, and I’m equally sure you’ll be able to get theirs off them while you do.”

D opened his mouth to protest when Leon continued, “It’s gonna be easy enough after that. You’ll just have to walk up the stairs. I’ll join you once you reach the first floor. There’s a fire escape round the back that should get me to one of the staff rooms.”

D was sure his eyes were going to bug out of his head. “What? Why would I -”

“I’m way too recognisable,” Leon cut him off, glaring at him. “Those bouncers’ll know exactly which male guests they are supposed to let upstairs and who needs to stay out. I’m not on their list, so I can’t do it.”

He reached for his fan and snapped it open. It was purely to distract himself from wanting to wring Leon’s neck. “What in the world makes you think that I would get past them when you cannot?”

There was a sly grin on Leon’s lips that he did most decidedly not like. “You’re way more charming than I am. It’s gonna be easy for you to convince them that you’re going exactly where you’re supposed to be going.”

“Why would they think I am supposed to -” D trailed off, his eyes widening in outrage. Leon snickered. “I am not a prostitute!”

“Well yeah, but those Russian boys don’t know that, do they?”

D’s eyes narrowed until they were hardly more than slits. “Detective, I swear on my ancestors, you are going to regret this!” he hissed. Leon gave him a blinding smile.

“Totally worth it.”

“This is the most imbecilic, impertinent – what makes you even think I might acquiesce to _this?”_

Leon pretended to consider for a moment before he gave a shrug and said, suddenly dead serious, “The chance to stop someone who’s responsible for killing more animals than you would ever want to imagine.”

The silence felt fragile, unstable. D carefully closed his fan. “Which of them should I approach?”

Leon looked over his shoulder, eyes careful and calculating. “The redhead. She’s already halfway sauced. She might even get sent home before she ever makes it upstairs, but even if she goes, she won’t be going alone, so they likely won’t even realise her wafer’s missing.”

D took a deep breath, closed his eyes and turned around. “I shall see you upstairs.”

“Third servant bedroom to the right.”

He did not acknowledge the words, instead made his way towards Hadi Purnama, whose eyes were riveted on the very blond, very tall woman to his right. The red-haired woman on his other side was – not exactly pouting, but judging by the speed with which she was imbibing her cocktail, Leon was most probably right.

A bright smile, a servile attitude and a flicker of his fan were all it took for Hadi Purnama to notice him. “Ah! Mr. Count, eh?”

D gave a little bow. “Mr. Purnama. So kind of you to remember me.”

“Of course, of course.” He had clearly already had more alcohol than he should, D noticed with distaste. “Mr. Spencer said you did wonders with his – what was it again?”

“A bird of paradise. A very beautiful specimen of Princess Stephanie’s astrapia.” Not, he thought, that this man would have any clue what type of bird that actually was. Nevertheless, Hadi Purnama was beaming at him.

“Yes, yes, that was it. Well, Mr. Spencer was most grateful for your help.”

D bowed again, still smiling. “Mr. Donald is very generous with his praise. Mr. Purnama, I was wondering if I might borrow your lovely companion for a dance?”

A frown flew over the man’s face, something D had calculated on. He extended his hand towards the red-haired woman and added, with an even sweeter smile, “It would be such a shame to not make full use of charming company.”

Hadi Purnama, restored to equanimity and secure in the knowledge that his favourite was not D’s choice, chuckled. “Very true, Mr. Count, very true. I don’t mind at all.”

The woman herself eyed his hand in surprise, obviously not having expected him to choose her. Then she smiled and put her glass down. “I would be honoured,” she purred, allowing D to take her hand. “I am Gypsy. Gypsy Pericolo.”

D could only just so keep his face straight. “I am delighted to make your acquaintance, Signorina Pericolo.”

She was, he noticed to his relief, certainly not sober anymore, but not yet in a state that would require him to unobtrusively steady her while they were dancing. Then again, if she was who Leon suspected she was, she would know better than to get drunk at a party like this, lest she lose customers.

He quickly glanced to where he had left Leon and found him still standing there, his eyes glued to him. D quickly turned his attention back to his dance partner, ignoring the little shiver down his back. “I am called Count D.”

“Oh, you are the mysterious pet shop owner.” She did have a nice enough smile, even when it was faked. D chanced another glance at Leon. He was still watching him. “I heard one can get the most fantastic pets at your shop.”

“Somewhat of an exaggeration, I’m afraid.” He returned her smile. “Although you are certainly welcome to have a look at our selection if you chance to be in the neighbourhood.”

“That would be lovely, although I have to admit that keeping a pet might be above my abilities.” She gave a little laugh. “One is always so busy. I would not want the poor thing to suffer for my distractions. But if you can think of an animal that can take being alone for some hours every day, I might reconsider.”

She was good, he had to admit that. Her hands were staying exactly where they were supposed to be, and she was not making any moves on him – although that might be part of her orders for tonight. He was not one of Spencer Donald’s choice guests, after all. Now, where might she have stored away her wafer?

He looked to Leon over her shoulder. He tilted his head to his side and put a hand to his breast pocket. D’s eyes went wide, then narrowed as he glared at him. Leon grinned and gave a shrug. Then he pushed himself off the wall and started slowly weaving through the other guests in the direction of the garden. D wanted to kill him.

“Your companion, I take it?”

He returned his attention to Gypsy, who was regarding him with interest. “He is a good-looking man. Is he Scandinavian?”

“US American,” D replied, mind racing as he tried to figure out how to get to the wafer. Silently he swore to have Tetsu roast Leon on a spit if it was not where he had indicated. “He is an old friend. A surprise visit, so I decided to take him along. It was most inconsiderate of him!”

He could not stop himself from adding the last part, and the chagrin in his voice was rather too obvious, but Gypsy laughed at it, eyes sparkling with real amusement. “You do not approve of him surprising you?”

“Most certainly not!”

She laughed again. “Goodness. And here I thought a splash of romance was universally appreciated.”

D felt his face blanch at the implication and she stopped laughing. “Oh, my apologies. I did not – I mean, I thought – I do apologise.”

“No,” he said, his mouth moving almost without his conscious will, “no, it is alright. Please, would you mind – I have a heart condition – some fresh air -”

“Of course.” She immediately slid his arm under hers and guided them through the big open doors onto the terrace. D took a deep breath and nodded towards the outer garden.

“Could we please – I do not want to be gawked at.”

“Sure.”

They slowly made their way away from the eyes of the other guests until they had reached a bench. D immediately sat, closing his eyes and trying to compose himself. Gypsy knelt down beside him. “Can I get you anything? A glass of water? A cold towel?”

He took a deep breath, then opened his eyes and pushed his hair to the side. His golden eye started to burn in the dark. “No, you have been most kind to me, Signorina Pericolo. Now, if you wouldn’t mind handing me your wafer?”

She stared at him, banned by the sight. Her hand wandered to her breasts and disappeared into her cleavage. D flushed and concentrated on keeping the spell going. The little blue ticket appeared and was pressed into his outstretched hand. He breathed a silent sigh of relief. “Thank you so much, Signorina. Now you will return to the ballroom and look for a lady named Signora Brunetti. You will talk to her and entertain her until Hadi Purnama or another of the men comes looking for you. If no one does, you will let Signora Brunetti give you a lift home and get a good night’s sleep.”

Gypsy nodded, entranced. D smiled softly. “Thank you for the dance, Signorina Pericolo. Now forget.”

He put his whole being behind the words, unwilling to make her however an unwilling accomplice. She blinked, then got up, looking down at him in confusion. He smiled back up at her. “Thank you very much for your assistance, Signorina. I shall stay here for a while. Please do not let me keep you.”

She blinked again, opened her mouth and frowned. D found his little purse and slipped a few notes into her hand. She looked down on them, her frown disappearing. “Oh, Count, there is no -”

“Please,” he interrupted her, shivering even as he gently closed her hand over the money. “It was my pleasure entirely.”

She closed her mouth, sent him a last glance and then smiled a little uncertainly. “I – might come by for a pet one of these days.”

“You will be most welcome.”

D watched her disappear back towards the house, still as a statue, torn between making Leon pay for making him resort to such measures, and revulsion at humankind. In the end, he stood, gathering his purse and the little blue ticket. Then he sighed, threw his head back and started walking towards the house. He could make Leon pay later. Right now, they had a mission to accomplish, and D could not afford to be late for his rendezvous.

* * *

Nobody was paying a lot of attention to the men guarding the staircase, but there were still too many people around to risk putting them under a spell. D glanced around himself, making sure he was not drawing attention from the few people populating the entrance hall. They were all deep in conversation, having turned their backs on him pretty much the moment he entered. Good. As long as they were busy trying to keep their conversations private, they would likely not care where he went, provided he did not approach them. As for the guards, he would have to make it past them by virtue of the wafer in his hand.

They perked up the moment he set the first foot on the steps and followed his ascent with narrowed eyes. D stopped at the top, smiling, his hand curled around the wafer. “Good evening.”

“These are private rooms,” one of them, a bit taller than the other, spoke up. D inclined his head and held up his hand with the wafer for inspection.

“Of course, sir.”

They looked at the wafer, then at him. He continued smiling. The slightly taller one eyed him a little suspiciously before addressing the other. »I don’t know. I thought there were only going to be chicks for the guests.«

A snort from his companion as he, too, looked D up and down with what could best be described as a disgusted look in his eyes, even as he kept his face neutral. »You never know with those weirdos from abroad. For all I can tell, he’s probably got a pussy as well.«

They were speaking Russian, and it chagrined him more than their derogatory words. D maintained his demure smile, images of Tetsu ripping them apart going through his mind, and silently cursed Leon three times to hell for pinpointing their nationality with such ease.

The first guard handed the wafer back to him, jerking his head in a silent order for D to walk past. »Fuck, don’t be disgusting. He’s probably the pimp. Gonna get things set up for later, is my guess.«

Tetsu would hopefully not be averse to some company over dinner. The hyenas, maybe?

D made his way to the second guest bedroom, opened the door and slipped inside. His eyes quickly got used to the semi-darkness and he took advantage of the relative silence to sit down on the floor, legs crossed, and close his eyes, taking deep breaths. There were so many reasons already to kill Leon, or simply leave him behind here and never turn back. Yet D knew he would do neither. No, he would walk over to the third staff bedroom on the right, open the window and let Leon climb inside, then help him to install his bugs wherever he thought they should be going, and return to the party with him to smile while people hinted more or less openly at the nature of their relationship.

If only.

D drew his knees up and put his forehead on his arms for a moment, keeping his eyes closed and his breath shallow. Not enough that the man was back, no, he had to be just enough himself to remind D of Los Angeles, and just enough changed to tempt him into wanting to find out what had happened in the meantime, and just how much he had changed.

He got up before he could lose himself in maudlin thoughts and found that the guards, as he had expected, had turned their attention back to the goings-on downstairs. Without a sound, he slipped out of the room and hurried along the corridor, careful to keep to the shadows. The staff rooms, as was common with these palazzi, were hidden out of sight of the main corridor, and once he was there, he was safe from being spotted.

Unless of course there were more guards positioned there. D suddenly found himself longing for Q-chan. Not Grandfather, Q-chan. Despite all evidence, he still had trouble reconciling the stern, serious man with the tiny outspoken creature that had accompanied him everywhere.

Straining his senses, he scanned the corridor in front of him for signs of life or alarms, making sure he was thorough before proceeding. The bedroom was locked (unsurprisingly; if D shared a house with Spencer Donald, he too would lock his bedroom when he left it), but that was not really an obstacle with the help of the small piece of metal from his purse. He stopped a moment to survey the room, reaching the conclusion that it was likely Spencer Donald’s secretary’s room. Not one of his favourite humans either. If he ever dropped by the pet shop, D would be more than happy to sell him one of the snakes. He already knew exactly which one.

Without touching any of the items distributed around the floor, he made his way to the window and unlatched it, uncertainty suddenly taking hold of him. Leon did not seem to be here yet. Had he been held up? Discovered, maybe?

“Goddamn, what took you so long? Were you having a chat with them Russian boys? Trying to sell them a Siberian tiger or anything?”

D barely had time to step back before Leon had already climbed inside, and for a second, they ended up chest to chest, D staring up at him in surprise, Leon looking down with a frown.

He quickly took another step backwards, folding his hands and glaring daggers at Leon. “Most assuredly not. I would never do my pets the dishonour of selling them to such disagreeable examples of the human species.”

Leon snickered. “They thought you were a honest-to-god hooker, didn’t they?”

D took a deep breath, closed his eyes and reminded himself that he could not yell at Leon. At this moment. “We should hurry. The main event will start in less than three quarters of an hour, and we don’t want to be the last guests left on the property either.”

“Well, I’m good to go. Are there any more guards around? On the stairs to the second floor?”

D shook his head as he turned to lead the way. “Not that I noticed.”

“Huh. Probably got some alarm installed, then.”

D agreed, but said nothing. They silently made their way up the dark servant stair only to find it blocked at the upper entrance by a door. Leon made a little sound of frustration. “Of course. That accounts for the missing guards.”

D knelt down and tried to peer closely at the lock. It was hard, with the only light coming from a dim emergency exit sign. Leon rustled behind him, then touched his shoulder. “Here. Flashlight.”

He accepted it and took another good look at the lock. Then, without a word, he picked up his purse and found another piece of metal.

Suddenly Leon was breathing right down his neck. “I don’t fucking believe it,” he murmured. D held his breath and supported himself unobtrusively on the door. “You’ve got a fucking lockpick. Fucking hell, D, you are so fucking lucky I’m not a cop anymore.”

“Yes, _Detective,_ I am, and I do need some space to carry out what will need to be done to get you inside this corridor. So would you please step back and hold the torch for me?” D bit it out, desperate to get the man off his back, quite literally.

Leon chuckled and followed his instructions. “Although, all things considered, this isn’t exactly the first time the two of us are breaking and entering together, is it?”

D’s hand stopped for a moment before he resumed his task. “No.”

“How’s that dragon doing, anyhow? She is back at the shop, isn’t she? Chris keeps talking about those three sisters that share a body. Figured that might be her.”

The door clicked open. D rose, turning around and turning the torch off. “There may still be alarms, although I seem to recall that they are only switched on when Spencer Donald leaves the house.”

“Oh? Why?”

D smiled and held out his hand. He took a perverse delight in Leon’s shudder when the two black creatures appeared beside him, staring at Leon from dark eyes. He swallowed hard and D watched his Adam’s apple bob.

“What the hell are they?”

D smiled and caressed their heads. “Allow me to introduce you to Ares and Mars. I am assuming you are seeing their dog form, right?”

Leon nodded, eyes wide and face pale.

“They are purebred Pakistani Mastiffs. Ares, Mars, may I introduce you to Leon Orcot. An old friend of mine.”

Ares pushed himself against D’s legs and looked at him questioningly. ▷Count, what are you doing here?◁

He patted the big head and smiled gently. “I will have to ask you to let my friend and me enter your master’s room for a few moments.”

▷Why?◁ Mars was clearly more suspicious of Leon than of the request itself, but D would not be able to plant the bugs without him. He rubbed the heavy chin.

“My dear Mars, Leon and I have business to conduct in your master’s room. It is very important business, and I would be immensely grateful if you would allow us to pass.”

▷If it’s important, why isn’t Master with you?◁

“Your master is busy downstairs with his guests right now, my dear,” D said gently. Ares licked his paw as he thought it over, ears playing. “Leon is a detective, you must know. He is currently helping me to catch a very bad man, someone who has killed many, many animals.”

▷Oh.◁ Mars sounded suitably impressed. ▷But why does he need to go into the Master’s rooms for that?◁

D sighed inwardly. Pakistani Mastiffs were not exactly known for their intelligence, but their loyalty presented its own problems. “Well, we know this person has recently been in your master’s rooms, and we would like to check for anything they might have left that could help us. You know your master receives many guests.”

Ares put down his paw and looked at D. ▷There were a few men there today that I didn’t like much. They are downstairs now. One of them tried to kick Mars.◁

D raised an eyebrow. “Did he now? How rude.”

▷Yes.◁ Ares turned around and started trotting into the corridor, Mars following on his heels. ▷A nasty little man whose hands smelt of pee.◁

D kept his face straight and hoped he had not shaken that particular man’s hand tonight. He had a slight suspicion though that Ares was probably talking about Slamet Bowo. He shuddered.

“Damn, I still can’t wrap my head around it,” someone said beside him and he almost jumped as he remembered that Leon was still there, keeping step with him. “Hearing them talk, I mean.”

D stopped and blinked at him. “You – can still hear them?”

Leon glanced at him. “Sometimes. Not always. I hardly ever see them, though. Well, I mean, I do. Mostly when I’m drunk. Then I can hear them, too. But for the most part, I just hear some of them. When I try talking to them, they answer back.”

“Oh,” D said softly. “That – is rather unexpected.”

Ares and Mars had also stopped and were looking back at them, their tails slightly wagging. ▷Count?◁

“Of course! My apologies.” He quickly followed them to the big double doors leading into Spencer Donald’s office. To his surprise, the door was unlocked. He turned to the dogs. “Ares, Mars, does your master have one of those loud noisemakers inside his office that goes off when someone opens the door?”

Ares pecked his head to the side. ▷Oh no. He says we make enough noise as it is.◁ He sounded very proud. D took a deep breath and pushed the handle down.

“Leon, I will ask you to trust me and do exactly as I tell you now. If any kind of alarm goes off when I open this door, or you suspect that an alarm might have gone off, we will make straight for the windows and get out onto the little balcony that is there. Once there, you will have to let me pick you up, and I will jump to the roof. Have you understood me?”

A warm hand in the small of his back had him jump. Leon’s voice was directly beside his ear. “Yes.”

D took another deep breath and opened the door. Ares and Mars pushed inside immediately, wagging their tails excitedly. His eyes darted to different corners, searching for any visible sign that an alarm or surveillance cameras had been set off. But apparently Spencer Donald trusted his dogs to keep his office safe.

He stepped inside, still poised to immediately protect Leon should anything occur. There was silence except for the noises from the garden and the dogs’ breathing. His posture relaxed a little. “It appears we are clear. Now. Where do they go?”

Leon slipped into the room after him, carefully closing the door. “I’ve got three bugs with me. One I thought could go underneath his desk, the other somewhere it can easily pick up on what visitors might say.”

D reached for his hand and felt Leon startle. “Allow me. You cannot turn on your torch here, and I know where things are in this room.”

Their breaths were loud in the almost-silence as D guided them over to the heavy desk Spencer Donald used. Leon knelt down and D watched him fasten something underneath it. “Right. Any suggestions where the next one could go?”

“There is a fireplace on the other side of the room. It is rarely used, but he likes to sit in front of it.”

Leon reached for his hand again and D felt his heart skip a beat. “Suggestion accepted.”

Ares and Mars had lain down in front of said fireplace, their tails twitching lazily. Leon used both hands to inspect it before he placed the bug on the back of the picture above it. “Okay. That should do. I hope. His bedroom is on this floor as well, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but – you aren’t seriously thinking about putting a bug in there, are you?” D found himself almost stuttering, his heart doubling its pace once more. It was not helped by Leon again taking his hand.

“One never knows. He probably makes phone calls in bed.”

“But -”

A soft snort. “We’re not trying to tape him having sex, but we are trying to monitor his movements. He’s married. He probably talks to his wife. Or one would hope he does.”

D closed his mouth on further objections and quietly called for the dogs. They got up with groans and followed them back into the corridor. D continued further down and stopped in front of the door he knew led to Spencer Donald’s bedroom. “Leon -”

“D, c’mon!”

With a sigh, he pushed down the handle and let them inside. Leon let out a quiet whistle. “Damn, that could almost tempt me to go into the smuggling business myself!”

D frowned, his eyes darting around the room in search of what could have prompted the remark. Leon had not shown any desire earlier to acquire a similar house for himself, so what was it about this bedroom that enticed him so?

The man in question strode past him and, before D could stop him, sat down on the bed. D’s eyes widened and his mouth opened, but no sound came forth. Leon bobbed up and down, grinning in delight. “A giant waterbed! Christ, I wish my apartment was big enough for this!”

D almost groaned. “You cannot be serious!”

Leon looked up at him, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Why not? I love these things. They’re amazing. Have you ever fu-”

“I most certainly have not!” D interrupted, indignant. Leon chortled.

“Of course you wouldn’t. You’re missing out big time, D, trust me on that.”

“Really, Detective, I am starting to wonder if you are truly as incorruptible as I always thought. It appears the only reason you have not been taken in by anyone is that they haven’t thought of offering you the right things yet,” D snapped and Leon laughed.

“Everyone’s got their price, D. Everyone. Even me.”

“Oh? Pray tell then, what would be your price?”

His stomach dropped as Leon stopped laughing and simply looked at him, face half illuminated by the light filtering in through the windows.

“Depends. What would you be willing to offer?”

D swallowed, finding his mouth dry. “Detective -”

“Leon.”

If he spoke the man’s name now, he would be irrevocably lost. D cleared his throat. “The bug,” he said faintly. Leon blinked, one, two times.

Then he quickly got up, hand slipping into his pocket to retrieve the third device. “Right. Make sure nobody’s coming, will ya?”

He dropped to his knees and inserted himself under the bed frame. D stood, his stomach still doing funny things, uncertain if he regretted or rejoiced at the sudden change. To take his mind off it, he closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the dogs inside the corridor. If he strained his ears enough, he could hear one of them thumping his tail on the ground, the other snoring softly.

Suddenly there was a rustle of movement, both of them got up and bounded away from the bedroom door. D paled, all confusion wiped out by the sounds of footsteps entering the corridor from the servant staircase.

“Detective -”

“Fuck’s sake, D!”

D bit his tongue to stop himself from yelling. That was not how people went undetected while installing bugs in the bedroom of an international criminal. “I believe someone is approaching.”

Leon was out from under the bed in a second, looking around frantically. “Shit. See any place we can hide in?”

As if on command, their eyes fell upon the big wardrobe before finding each other again. Now D really felt like yelling, consequences be damned. “Leon, I swear by my ancestors, if you ask me to hide in a wardrobe with you while someone is having sex in this room, I _will_ feed you to Tetsu!”

Leon snorted just as excited giggling wafted in through the door, accompanied by sweet nonsense in Italian. “I was gonna suggest the bathroom.”

D followed on his heels as he quickly made his way over to the door, opened it carefully and slipped inside. “How is that any better?” he hissed, wondering if he should simply stay back and hypnotise the approaching couple. It would at least save him from having to share any cramped, dark and potentially hot spaces with Leon.

He was not a little surprised when a hand took his and he was pulled forward along what he supposed would be a white tiled floor. Leon’s voice dropped to an almost indiscernible whisper as the couple outside the door created a racket by throwing themselves onto the bed. “Because, according to the floor plans Paolo gave me, this bathroom has two doors. The other room is his wife’s.”

D blinked and followed without a comment until Leon stopped. The movement of the hand told him that he was getting down to his knees, supposedly to look through the keyhole. D took a deep breath and tugged at the hand. “Let me.”

Without a word, they switched places and D put his free hand to the door, letting his senses expand into the room beyond. A moment later he looked up. “It is empty.”

They slipped out, D’s hand still in Leon’s. In the corridor, the two dogs were already waiting for them, whining softly. ▷Count, Count! Master is in his bedroom with a woman!◁

D retracted his hand, glad to use the animals as an excuse. His stomach had still not settled entirely. “Is he now?” he said softly, stroking their heads. “Well, we shall not disturb them then, and just leave by the staircase we came by.”

Mars pushed his head against the hand. ▷You don’t understand, Count! It is not Mistress!◁

There was a soft intake of breath behind him. “Damn, that guy’s banging someone else while his wife is entertaining the guests.” Leon’s voice held disgust. “What a bastard.”

D said nothing.

“Let’s leave, shall we?” Leon said after a pause.

“Yes.”

The dogs accompanied them to the staircase and D petted them for a few moments before he closed the door and leant against the wall. All of this excitement was proving to be rather too much. Or maybe – not too much, but of the wrong kind, and too many different types of excitement. Leon scrutinised him in the greenish emergency exit light. “You okay? Is it your heart again?”

For a split second D thought the organ in question would stop. “My heart? Why -”

Leon shrugged. “Last time I saw you this pale was when that dragon hatched. You know. You broke down running.”

“Oh.” D collected his thoughts and lowered his gaze. “No, it is not my heart. I am merely glad we made it out of there without being discovered. Detective, I do sincerely hope this whole adventure is going to serve some purpose. I will be very put out otherwise.”

Another shrug and Leon started descending the stairs. “We’ll see in due time. If it was as easy as simply planting a few bugs and waiting for them to incriminate themselves, I’d be out of a job. And listen, I get that you used to call me that, but it’s really bugging me. So please stop calling me Detective.”

D swallowed. “Of course. My apologies, Mr. Orcot.”


	5. Rome, Italy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been made aware that, while the Carabinieri might be involved in an investigation like the one described in this story, it is much more likely that the Polizia di Stato would be in charge of it. My apologies, and thanks to Fabio for explaining the rather convoluted structures of the Italian police to me :-)

Leon was torn between counting himself lucky that his mission was giving him something else to concentrate on and tearing his hair out with frustration at D’s behaviour. The whole “Detective, Mr. Orcot, Leon”-confusion was not helping matters. He knew D well enough to know he used those titles as a way to keep people out and away from him, although he had started to doubt at some point in time whether “Detective” was still doing its intended job (did not help that D frequently combined it with phrases like “my dear” or “my darling”).

The whole evening so far had been an exercise in trying to figure out what kind of relationship D was currently trying to establish between the two of them, and it was driving Leon mad. Especially the fact that D himself seemed unable to quite decide, and Leon hated the fact that his heart dropped to his knees every single time D chose “Mr. Orcot” instead of “Leon”. Especially just now.

Then again, D had always used these kinds of tactics, so Leon should really not be surprised he was employing them now. There was just much less of a pattern to it than there usually was, and he harboured a strong suspicion it was not due to a strategic attempt to confuse Leon even more.

D was rattled. Leon had not expected that that would rattle him so much as well. And it was inconvenient, too, because there were a ton of things they needed to talk about, and the way things were going right now, he had no idea if they were ever going to be able to shake off what felt like a regression into the very early stages of their relationship.

Having his mind run in circles about what the hell D could be trying to do every single time he addressed Leon was also not a great idea given their current occupation. To be fair, they were not doing much. They were leaning against a wall, well, Leon was, D was standing and fanning himself, and they were waiting for the two waitresses around the corner to stop gossiping and get back to doing their job already so they could sneak out into the garden undetected.

Using the servant staircase to get out of the house and into the garden had been a stupid idea, Leon decided. They should simply have gone out the way they had come in, Leon via the fire escape and D via the grand marble staircase.

D had been less than impressed with the suggestion of him confronting the bouncers again, and Leon had given in, not particularly intent on fighting this out on a staircase where they could be discovered any moment.

And now they were stuck at the bottom of said staircase, more correctly in the space under the stairs, with those two stupid waitresses going on and on and on about the women’s dresses.

Leon was at the point where he would honestly have preferred being stuck in that wardrobe with D and listening to Spencer Donald having sex.

He looked at his wristwatch and gritted his teeth when he realised that it was getting dangerously close to half past ten. He turned to D to point it out to him, maybe even find out if he had any bright ideas how to get them out of here without being spotted, and found D staring at the wall with an expression on his face that he could not figure out to save his life. D looked – he looked desperate.

Leon opened his mouth and was interrupted by D’s whisper.

“Why am I here?”

Leon closed his mouth and blinked. “What?”

D startled and turned to him, as if only now remembering that he was still here, too. His mask had fallen again and he was wearing his blank smile. “Nothing, Mr. Orcot. Please excuse me.”

Leon narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean, why are you here?”

D shook his head and turned back to continue gazing at the wall. Leon took a step closer. “D. What are you talking about?”

Another slight shake of the head. D crossed his arms as if he was cold. That was unlikely, though. Leon was hot and uncomfortable in his jacket as it was, and D was wearing a few layers of silk. “Why shouldn’t you be here?”

D closed his eyes, as if grasping for patience. “I should not be here, because, Mr. Orcot, _I have no business being here!_ And, as it so happens, neither have you!”

Leon stared, taken aback by the words. “This is my job!”

The eyes opened and D sent him a flaming look. “Of course it is. Only that it is _not._ You are an Interpol agent. You have no business whatsoever planting devices in people’s homes, and yet you are! It is exactly like back in Los Angeles. You are always getting yourself in over your head. Always messing with things you have, at best, a vague understanding of, always getting involved with things you should not get involved in.”

Leon tensed, hands clenching with the need to grab and shake D, but he managed to keep his voice to a furious whisper. “The hell? _I’m_ always getting in over my head? Who’s the one who got kidnapped by terrorists? Who’s the one who had a serial killer vampire on his trail? Who’s the one who attracted not only the FBI’s, but Interpol’s attention by selling homicidal pets to anyone who had the misfortune of stepping into your shop at the wrong time?”

D’s fists clenched as well as he glared right back. “Neither of us should be here, least of all together! And if you had used your brains for once, we would not have to be here!”

Leon gaped. “If I had used my brains? _I?_ Well, how about _you?_ If you had used your brains, you would’ve stopped selling your deranged pets ages ago, or at least changed the name of the shop every now and then so people wouldn’t know at once that you’ve turned up _yet again!_ Hell, it’s been proven to you time and again that people _remember,_ that they’ll find you if you even give them half a chance! So don’t tell me it’s me who’s bound for trouble! Half the time, it’s you and that damn shop who land both of us in trouble!”

The mismatched eyes blazed with challenge. “That is exactly what I am talking about, you are not using your brain! The solution to that problem is fairly self-evident, is it not? If you think that I am always getting you into trouble, the best way to avoid it is to stay away from me! But no, you are so insistent on finding me that apparently you cannot be bothered to let go!”

“Because you need a fucking nursemaid, that’s why!” He lost the fight, reached out and grabbed D by the shoulders, shaking him. D’s hands came up between them, pushing at his chest, trying to put distance between them, but Leon stubbornly hung on. “Because you’re completely clueless where modern technology is concerned, and look in which kind of mess it’s landed you! You can’t be left by yourself, god or not!”

“But not you! You were not supposed to keep looking for me!”

Leon stared at D, whose eyes were a little wild, face half desperate. “Why not? Why would I not keep looking for you? For the first few months, I wasn’t even sure if you had survived that fire! Everyone kept telling me you had bitten the bullet, even without a body. Fuck, D, I hardly knew what to believe some days! If it hadn’t been for Sam and Chris telling me what they had seen, I might’ve believed you’re actually dead and that I’d hallucinated the whole thing!”

A smile crossed D’s lips. It looked bitter. “Yes, your precious hallucinations. They are convenient scapegoats, are they not? After all, they cannot defend themselves.”

Leon growled. “That’s not the point here!”

“No? Then what is?” D shot back, fire blazing from his eyes now. Leon’s throat constricted. He looked beautiful.

“The point is that I might have believed you’re dead! You would’ve let me believe that you’re dead!”

D was silent for a moment, a stunned expression crossing his face before he rallied. “Even so, what difference would it have made?”

The anger burnt his insides. “What difference does it make? What _difference_ does it make? Why did you do that to me? Why would you do all of that to me? You just left without a word, even when I fucking _turned around_ and asked you what the matter was. Then you wouldn’t let me _die_ after I’d just killed your dad, no, instead you dragged me out of that fucking tower, all the while telling me you’d never forgive humans! Well, just in case you hadn’t noticed, I _am_ human, and you _saved_ my life. And then you pushed me off that ship. What the fuck was that for? Couldn’t you at least have said goodbye properly? You’re the one who’s always so big on manners and everything, and you don’t even bother saying goodbye? Or, I dunno, sending a fucking postcard from some undisclosed location to say, ‘Hello Detective, are you alright? Has that leg healed? Oh, fyi, I’m fine. Still alive. Don’t worry ’bout me’.”

He stopped and took a deep breath. Then another. He had not noticed that he had barely breathed while getting all of that off his chest. D had averted his eyes, his hands on Leon’s chest now limp, not pushing any longer, not trying to get him off. “De- Leon, I understand how my actions may have confused you. Please be assured that was not my intention. I was simply -”

“Simply what?” Leon snapped when he stopped without finishing his sentence. “Simply trying to get rid of me? Then you should’ve let me die in that tower, D. You fucking know me well enough to know I’d go looking for you! For fuck’s sake, you didn’t even change your MO! Do you have any idea how easy it was to track you via the Interpol databases?”

“I was not – I hoped you would understand.” D’s voice was very quiet now, and he was still not meeting Leon’s eyes. “You and I, we – it was impossible to continue like that. I thought you would understand when you saw the ship. That you would know I was not dead. I did not mean to leave you in doubt about my – continued existence.”

“That still doesn’t answer the question of why you left the way you did.” Almost unwittingly, Leon also spoke more quietly now. D glanced at him, quickly, then looked at the wall again.

“The – situation between us. I could not let it continue. It was – unhealthy for you.”

Leon gawked. “What the fuck? Would you kindly let me decide what’s good for me and what isn’t?”

D glared at him, his hands curling around Leon’s wrists, tugging, yet there was no real strength behind them, and Leon knew he had more than enough. “You know full well what I am talking about. Don’t pretend you don’t. You are not stupid.”

Leon gritted his teeth. “So you weren’t comfortable with being friends with me? With Chris and me?”

The hands gripped tighter now. “That is not what I am talking about -”

“What then?”

“- and even if it was,” D continued, glaring full force now, “Do you believe, even for one second, that being friends with you would’ve changed anything?”

Leon resisted the hands trying to push his away. “I sure as hell think it would’ve! It should’ve, at the very least!”

“And why is that?” D snapped, clearly at the end of his tether. Leon took a deep breath.

“Because friends don’t ditch friends just like that!”

They stared at each other, out of breath, too close for comfort, yet unwilling to move apart. D was opening his mouth, closing it, scrabbling for something to say.

“I cannot be your friend.”

Leon reeled back as if D had hit him.

“The fuck are you talking about?”

“My family – what I am – Leon, you _must_ see that it’s impossible! Even something as – as innocent as a friendship – it is completely out of the question. It simply cannot be!”

“Why not?” Leon hardly recognised his own voice, it was so pathetic. A whimper more than anything. “It’s not as if I’m asking for much, here! I’m not asking you to marry me! I’m just -” He could not finish his sentence. He did not particularly want to lie, and he had even less desire to be called out on lying by D. He was good at that, had always been, and had always ruthlessly used it as a weapon against Leon. He did not know if he would be able to stand that at this particular point in time.

D had closed his eyes, his face a mask of pain. “You are so utterly human, Leon. You talk of friendship, yet you were the one who, after having looked for me for the better part of four years, immediately declared a vendetta against me.”

“Fuck’s sake, D, you know I say a lot of things when the day’s long, and that I don’t mean half of them.” It came out pleading instead of angry. Another bitter smile flew across that face.

“Indeed, I know that well. Which is part of the reason why I did what I did.” The eyelashes fluttered for a moment and the voice dropped in volume. “Although it never was my intention to leave you doubting your sanity, or cause you grief.”

Leon stared at him, choking on the words he wanted to say, words he could not say, not when D was like this. Not when he was not even acknowledging that they had been friends in some way. All he managed was a small “D, please …”

“My dear Count, when a man is begging like that, surely he should be rewarded?”

They jumped apart as if burnt, breathing fast and staring at Spencer Donald. He was smirking, his arms crossed. “I’m very sorry having to interrupt at this stage, but you see, my staff was getting rather concerned about the commotion under the stairs.”

Leon’s eyes fell onto the two waitresses who had kept them from escaping loitering behind Spencer Donald, looking half ashamed, half intrigued. He straightened, brushing his hands over his shirt and jacket, noticing from the corner of his eye that D was doing the same. “Spencer -” he began, and Spencer Donald waved him off with what could only be described as a dismissive gesture. Leon had to keep himself from growling. _Nobody_ dismissed D out of hand. Least of all people like Spencer Donald.

“Count, I really understand things getting – a bit tense in relationships such as yours, but please remember where you are.”

Understanding dawned suddenly, and Leon had almost opened his mouth to start yelling when D’s foot came down on his and he winced in pain. “I am sorry, Spencer. I know you did offer earlier.”

Obviously satisfied, Spencer Donald smiled, his eyes cold. “Well then, I shall see you in a few minutes at the auction.”

“Certainly.”

The waitresses followed, still glancing back and whispering.

They stayed frozen in place, hardly daring to breathe.

Then Leon’s fist hit the wall and he swore colourfully. “Motherfucker!”

D’s head whipped around to him. “Leon!”

Leon glared back, unable to contain his rage. _“What?”_

D looked taken aback, shaken and very much not like he was about to reprimand Leon for his language. After a few more moments of silence, he finally whispered, “It is not like you to use that phrase.”

Leon bit his lip and looked away. “I know.” He did. He was also pretty sure D had never before heard him use this particular term, regardless of how colourful his vocabulary might be. “I save that one for the ones I really hate.”

D started moving and Leon grabbed his arm, turning him around so D looked at him. Of course he did not. He averted his head, much as he had during most of the conversation. “He has no right to talk to you that way.”

D looked up, startled, eyes locking on his. Leon held his gaze determinedly. “He doesn’t. You’re so, so much better than he is -”

“Leon.” Suddenly there was a hand on his cheek and Leon could not continue his sentence. D looked immensely pained. “This is the way things work. He sees only what he wants to see, and I have so far not seen any reason to correct him.”

“He shouldn’t be treating you that way!” Leon insisted. “Why d’you let him believe it?”

D shrugged his shoulders. It looked impossibly elegant and terribly tired. “I am one, Leon. They are many.”

“You don’t need people like him, D.”

The mismatched eyes gazed up at him and Leon felt his throat go tight. “I do. Now apparently more than ever, thanks to your praised technology.”

Without knowing he was doing it, Leon reached out and grabbed D’s other arm as well. He allowed it, only gazed at him quietly. “I can protect you, D. You know I can. Why d’you think I joined Interpol?”

D closed his eyes for a moment, and Leon had never seen him look so hurt. “I feared that might be the case.” The eyes opened again and the hand caressed his cheek for a moment. “We need to go to the auction. Spencer will send someone for us if we don’t. He cannot afford a spectacle. Now, please, Leon. Only another half hour and this will be over.”

“D, why?”

D looked back at him, a faraway look in his eyes, and Leon shuddered involuntarily. “My dear Detective, you are human, and I am not, and I believe you are well aware of what the phrase ‘power imbalance’ means.”

* * *

There was no clock in the room and he was too tired to turn on his cellphone and find out how late it was.

Leon turned over and stared at the small strip of light that managed to sneak through the thick curtains. Working for Interpol had its benefits. The hotels were way above what he had been able to afford during the first few months of looking for D.

He turned around again, shuffling off the blanket. It was too warm. What time was it, anyway?

He had just managed to wrangle his cellphone out of his trouser pocket when the screen suddenly flashed. Leon stared at it for a moment in surprise, only registering that someone was calling him when the ringtone started to echo in the quiet room. He quickly pressed the button. “Hello?”

“Léon. I apologise for interrupting your sleep.”

He sat up, suddenly wide awake. “Paolo?” A hand sneaked up, already brushing through his hair. “What’s the matter? Why are you calling me?”

The voice betrayed the stress the man was under. “We are on our way to Donald’s residence. I thought you might want to join us.”

 _“What?_ But -”

“We have had a report,” Paolo cut him off. “A distress call, to be precise. Enough to warrant storming the property.”

Leon was already out of the bed. “I’ll be there in ten.”

The concierge stared at him in a mixture of outrage and confusion when Leon stormed out, understandably so, because it was shortly past two in the morning. For about ten seconds he considered trying to hail a cab and then decided he was going to be faster on foot. It would have been difficult to miss the right way anyhow, he realised even from two streets away. The bright blue lights were impossible to miss, and several neighbours had found their way to the street, clustering and whispering while policemen were keeping the perimeter.

Leon stopped up and bit his lip, then found his cell. It rang several times, but nobody picked up, so he wandered closer, trying to gauge what was going on. There were several police cars, but what really worried him was the ambulance parked across the street. The doors were closed, but he could make out frantic movements inside. While he was still looking, it slowly started moving, policemen shooing the audience aside to let it pass. Leon took his chance to get closer to one of them. “’Scuse me -”

“Léon!”

Paolo Cocuzzi was striding down the stairs leading to the main entrance, cutting an imposing figure in his fluttering black coat, immaculately dressed despite the late hour. The policeman Leon had just tried to talk to saluted, and he slipped past him easily. Paolo grabbed his hands in a quick gesture, then strode back into the house immediately. “Léon, I am very grateful you came.”

“What happened?” They had reached the entrance and started up the big marble staircase. Paolo shook his head, a grim expression on his face.

“I am not at liberty to discuss our source, of course, but … someone … picked up screams originating from this residence. Screams that sounded very much like a person was in great distress.”

Their eyes met. “A passing patrol verified that there were, indeed, screams. They called for backup while trying to gain access by ringing the doorbell and calling.” Paolo raised his shoulders and hands in a gesture of helpless innocence. “Backup arrived before the residents decided to open the door and let the patrol investigate.”

Leon nodded, his expression equally grim. “They must have been close by.”

Paolo shrugged one elegant shoulder and smiled. It was the kind of smile that, on D’s lips, would have had Leon running for cover. “Rome is a big city with a lot of things going on. We need to be prepared at all times.”

They had reached the first landing. Screams that sounded a lot like curses were coming from one of the guest bedrooms. He looked at Paolo. He nodded. “One of the girls hired for ‘entertainment’.”

Leon’s mouth felt dry. “Is she -”

Paolo’s face was almost devoid of expression. “She was just taken away in the ambulance. I need you for the study.”

They climbed the next flight of stairs in silence. Spencer Donald’s voice could be heard already from halfway up. “This is outrageous! I want to speak with your superior!”

Paolo nodded his head in the direction of the study. “You go. I’ll take care of Donald and rescue poor Alberto from him.”

Spencer Donald cut an impressive figure as well, even only dressed in pyjamas and a morning gown, expression thunderous as he assaulted the Commissario in front of him with threats of legal action and various other repercussions of his actions. Paolo, head held high, strode over determinedly. Leon gave him enough time to draw Spencer Donald’s attention before he continued walking in the direction of the study, Alberto coming to his side almost immediately. “Hope you aren’t scared of dogs,” he whispered. “There are two big ones in the study.”

Leon bit his lip. “I think I can handle them.” A shiver ran suddenly down his back and instinctively, he turned his head half to catch Spencer Donald staring at him, eyes narrowed and suspicious. Alberto grabbed his arm and pulled him down the corridor more quickly just as Paolo raised his voice. “Signore Donald, we appreciate that you are an American citizen, but this property is not under diplomatic immunity. We have every right to enter by force if there we suspect an Italian citizen may be coming to harm within the house.”

Alberto pushed the door open and they were inside the room. Ares and Mars rose, low growls escaping from their throats. Leon stopped as well. Alberto nodded towards the desk while he drew his handgun. “So far they’ve only growled at us, but we haven’t really tried to get to the desk to begin with. Still -”

“This is your chance,” Leon finished and took a few more careful, cautious steps, hands held out. “Hi Ares. Hi Mars. Remember me?”

He could not see them, no matter what he tried, and he had tried many times in the past few years. The best he could manage without D around was hearing their voices, and even so, he could not always make out the words. He prayed to God, D or whoever might be listening that the mastiffs would remember him from earlier that evening. Otherwise he might have to call D in to help, and calling D now, after …

▷Count’s friend?◁ Ares stopped growling. He seemed confused. His tail, stiff when they entered, lost tension and went down. ▷What are you doing here?◁

At the words, Mars stopped growling as well. Leon took a careful breath. “Leon. My name is Leon. The Count told you that earlier, d’you remember?”

▷Where is the Count? Why isn’t he with you? Master is very angry.◁ Ares sounded almost tearful. Leon carefully bent one knee until he was about eye-level with the dogs, then offered one hand. Ares took two steps towards him, his nose stretched out as far as it would go, and sniffed his hand. ▷We haven’t done anything wrong, have we?◁

“No,” Leon said, not moving. He could feel Alberto behind his back, weapon trained on the big black dog. Sweat was trickling down his back, but he could not blow this chance. “You haven’t. The other man has. The one who tried to kick you.”

At that, both of them growled again and Leon felt more than heard the click when Alberto readied the gun. ▷What has he done?◁

He suddenly found himself fervently wishing that D was here after all. Regardless of what had been said earlier. “He has hurt a woman very, very badly. But you see, that woman was hired by your master to keep him company. Now I need to check his desk to find out what her name is. Could you please let me pass?”

They hesitated. Leon did not move. “Please. The man needs to be punished. For hurting that woman and for trying to hurt you.”

Ares made a sound somewhere between a sneeze and a snort and moved over to the fireplace. ▷Don’t make a mess. Master hates mess on his desk.◁

Mars looked between him and Leon, then followed Ares and lay down in front of the fireplace with a thump. Leon closed his eyes and traced his lips with his tongue. They were parched. Then he got up and strode over to the desk. Alberto followed him, gun back in his holster. “Léon, what was that?”

He did not look at his colleague while he opened drawers and stacked papers on top of the desk. “What was what?”

Alberto gestured over to the dogs. “That. You – you can’t speak with dogs, can you?”

Leon found a laptop in the third drawer and added it to the pile. “I’m alright with dogs.”

Alberto snorted. “That was more than ‘alright’. That was amazing. I thought we’d have to shoot them.”

Leon looked over at the two dogs now lying on the floor, alert but quiet, their dark eyes following his movements. “No need for that. They’re good dogs, just doing their job. It’s not their fault who their master is. C’mon now. We’ve gotta get our hands on as much as we can before his lawyers turn up.”


	6. Rome, Italy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the question has been asked, I thought I should mention that due to unforeseen circumstances (aka I am unwilling to shorten and de-spoiler the essay my notes on tropes have turned into), the notes on tropes are, for the time being, on hold, but will be published in an extra chapter together with the last chapter of the story. My apologies, I guess?

The door was opened unusually quietly. Leon’s cigarette was hanging from his mouth, but it was unlit. D watched him walk over and sit on the sofa before he spoke. “Good day, Mr. Orcot.”

Leon glanced at him, but said nothing. D found cup, saucer and teapot and poured him a cup. It clinked just a little bit as he sat it down on the table. Leon stared at it, then took the cigarette out of his mouth and stuffed it back in the package.

“Heard the news already?”

“About the police raid at Spencer Donald’s residence?” D returned to the tea trolley. “It would have been hard to miss. It was all over yesterday’s and today’s newspapers.”

Leon nodded, his eyes dropping half-closed. “Know the details?”

D shook his head. “Only what was written. It is not much, and from what I can tell, mainly speculation.”

Leon reached for the cup, took a sip and then played with it. “The girl from that party. The blond one with the big chest. Remember her?”

He nodded. Leon took another sip. “She’s still in critical condition. They don’t know if she’ll make it. Multiple injuries to the lower body, likely caused by some blunt instrument. Something like a baseball bat, though a bit smaller.”

“Who was it?”

Leon grimaced. “Hadi Purnama, but the American customs guy seems to have enjoyed watching.”

“I am very sorry to hear that.” D was, he realised even as he said it. Not necessarily for the woman. No. It was Leon he was sorry for. Sorry for him having to witness yet another act of pointless human cruelty. He tried a smile. “Well, all things considered, it was a good thing you planted these devices there earlier in the evening. Who knows what might have transpired had you not.”

Leon stared into his cup. “Guess so.”

D looked at him for a few more moments before he shook himself and poured another cup of tea. He was about to walk to his chair and sit down when Leon spoke up again. “I’m going back to France. My flight leaves at four.”

D’s chest tightened. “You are leaving?”

Leon shrugged. “Well, my job here is done. Paolo and Alberto got everything they need for the time being, so I’ll be returning to HQ. There’s a lot of work to be done there, too. Following up the leads. Decrypting some of the stuff they confiscated in his office. He’s not yet under arrest, you know. They only told him he isn’t allowed to leave the country. I mean, they’ll probably arrest him within the week, but right now, he’s still free to roam about. Though I don’t think he’ll be doing much of that. His customers won’t be happy about this, and there are certainly one or two amongst them who won’t hesitate to shut his mouth forever.”

“Oh.” D sat down, his stomach churning. It had nothing to do with the dire prospects for Spencer Donald’s future. “I assumed you would be staying a bit longer.”

Leon shook his head. “I’m not. But you damn well will, is that clear?”

He had to work to make his lips quirk up in a smile. “Oh?”

“You’re still not off the hook, you know. Not until they’ve established that Nikita Kshesinskaya died of an unfortunate accident rather than due to a murder plot between you and Spencer Donald.”

“Of course.” D inclined his head. The smile felt like he had painted it on. Leon ruffled through his hair.

“You will be staying, won’t you?” His voice had changed tone, was now quiet, almost pleading. D looked up.

“Since you so sincerely recommend it to me, I may just follow your advice.”

A quiet snort. “That’s a first for sure.”

They fell silent. Sipped tea. Avoided looking at each other. It was uncomfortably reminiscent of the last few months in LA. Finally Leon sat down his cup and sighed.

“Listen, D, this really didn’t go down the way I imagined it would. And, you know, I’m sorry it didn’t. I mean, if I’d known you’d be in Rome, I’d have brought Chris’s drawing.”

His chest tightened. “Oh. I, ah, was not aware that you had it.”

“Been keeping it safe for you.”

D nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Leon sighed again, looked up at the ceiling. “Of course, I could simply quit -”

“No!”

They stared at each other. D tried to collect himself, speak calmly and smile. He had a suspicion it was not quite as convincing as he would like it to be. “Leon, there is no reason for you to quit your job. You have proven you are good at it, and I am sure people at Interpol are grateful to have someone as experienced as you within their ranks.”

A quiet snort. “They’ll find someone else. I’m not irreplacable.”

D’s lip quivered. “You are.”

They sat in silence. T-chan, curled up under the sofa, was almost glaring at D. He ignored him.

“D, why are you so dead-set on not hearing me out?”

He stared into his cup, refusing to meet his gaze. “Please, Leon. I told you. You know.”

“What if I went back on a few of the things I said?”

He sat the cup on the table before the china could crack. “It would not change anything.”

Tetsu groaned and Leon startled, not even having noticed him under his seat. “Oh. Uh. Hi there. Chris says hi, too, by the way.”

D tried a smile. “Does he now?”

“Yeah. He’s doing well, you know. Got his old friends back. Well, most of them. Josie says he’s also gained quite a bit of confidence. Stands up to Sam these days when they get into a fight. They’re not getting along so well right now, but, well, they’re both teenagers now. She’s a bit of a diva. Has always been.”

There was a beat of silence before D could bring himself to say, “It is good to hear they are doing well.”

More silence. Leon tore his gaze from Tetsu, who apparently had decided that having a staring contest with Leon was going to do for the time being, and looked at the clock. “I need to get back and wrap up stuff.”

D stood at once. “Of course. Do not let me keep you.”

Leon rose more slowly, as if waiting for D to change his mind. He clasped his hands. “I hope you have a pleasant flight home. Do relay my greetings to Chris.”

“Sure.”

They walked to the door. Leon turned around once outside, and D could not let him say anything. “Thank you for -” he floundered for a moment, then finished quietly with, “- catching me up on how Chris is doing. And your – concern.”

Leon nodded, not looking at him. Then, suddenly, he held out his hand. “Bye then.”

D stared at it for a long moment before he carefully took it in his. It felt as strange, as uncomfortable as their handshake at the golf club had. Had that really only been a week ago? It felt much, much longer.

“Goodbye, Leon.”

* * *

“I don’t think that’s going to keep him away.” Tetsu trotted after him into the kitchen and D tried to find the patience not to snap. They had been having this same conversation pretty much since Leon had left, only disturbed by two customers. And D did not appreciate either T-chan’s insistence on his doubts or how his stomach clenched whenever he voiced them. “Face it, Count, so far, you’ve left him without a word, pushed him off the ship and avoided him for four years like the plague. Do you really think that now you’ve kicked him out, it’ll make him give up? I don’t think so, and I’m willing to take a bet on how long it’ll take him to come running back. Whatever you’ve tried so far, it hasn’t made any difference, has it? He _always_ returns! You can just as well give in already!”

“That is absolutely out of the question,” D said firmly, ignoring the way his stomach clenched. Tetsu groaned.

“Count, we all understand what you’re worried about, but face it – if it’s that, it’s way too late for Leon anyway. Why put him through even more heartache? And you could at least give him the benefit of the doubt. He never fully succumbed to you back in LA. Why would he now?”

”Exactly. Why would he now?” D picked up the plate and carried it outside to set it on the table. “You were the one who advised me to talk to him and explain why he should stop pursuing me, and now you are telling me it was wrong to do so?”

Tetsu growled. “That’s not what I said!”

“Then what did you say?” D demanded, his patience worn dangerously thin. T-chan glared back at him.

“I’m saying that I’ve seen him now, and I think it may be too late to prevent anything at all!”

D went rigid. “He went away when I told him to.”

“He did, but how long will it take him to return?”

D gritted his teeth. “He will not return.”

“He will,” Tetsu proclaimed and Pon-chan looked up from her cup to nod. D glared at her. Tetsu changed tactics, his voice going softer, and placed a paw over his hand. “These things happen, Count. They’ve happened since humans started interacting with us, and they’ll continue to happen until either them or us are no longer.”

D moved, unable to bear the touch. “Yes, they happen again and again, and we all know how they usually turn out. Do you think I have any intention to inflict such a fate on Leon?”

“You may well already have done so,” Tetsu pointed out, following him once more. “Count, calm down for a few moments, will you? You wouldn’t be the first mythical being ever to choose a human for a companion. Or a ‘friend’, if you insist on pretending. Sometimes I wonder if you’ve ever read those fairy tales you tell us. You know quite well that it doesn’t have to turn out that way. As a matter of fact, frequently it doesn’t. Plenty of us have had human friends and lovers. The world has yet to stop turning because of it!”

“The cases are hardly comparable.” D had never heard his own voice sound so dead. “I am bound to the shop.”

Tetsu sighed deeply. “So he cannot live in the shop as long as he is human. So what? It’s not like he can’t rent his own apartment. And it’s not like the whole ‘being human’ thing couldn’t be remedied either.”

D startled and moved uncomfortably. “No. I could never ask Leon – besides, he has no intention to conduct – this kind of relationship with me.”

Tetsu rolled his eyes. “Oh, for – Count, what the hell do you think he was talking about when he offered to give up his job for you? Even someone as idealistic as Leon wouldn’t do that for just a friend, no matter how important they are to him. Now I have no idea what he wanted to go back on, because you stopped him before he could, but I might have a suggestion as to what it could’ve been.”

D shuddered unwillingly. “That is even less possible.”

Tetsu threw his hands up in the air. “And you told him that, didn’t you! Count, seriously! What do you expect him to do? You let him chase you for four years, and would’ve let him chase you for even longer if you hadn’t bumped into him here by accident, yet at the same time you keep telling him that you don’t want to hook up with him! Is it any wonder he’s not exactly popping the question?”

“I don’t want him to pop any questions! I want him gone for good!”

His voice echoed in the parlour, and even D could not pretend it did not sound plaintive and desperate.

The opening door cut short whatever reply Tetsu or another pet might have made. D spun around and found himself face-to-face with Gypsy Pericolo. She smiled at him. «Count D. Am I disturbing you?»

His smile slid back into place. D folded his hands as Tetsu slunk off. «Of course not. Please do come in. I am delighted that you have decided to consider a pet after all.»

She stepped further inside, her smile brightening. Without make-up, she was still beautiful, but a slight shadow clouded her eyes. D could guess at the reason and resolved firmly not to broach the subject unless she did.

«Well, yes. I – I had to get out for a bit, and then I found myself just around the corner, and I thought, why don’t I go have a look at least?»

He gestured and she came inside further, tension ebbing as she stepped fully into the incense. D found that he could breathe easier now as well. As long as she was here, he could concentrate fully on her, and all other thoughts could be pushed to the side.

She took a long look around the parlour, smiling at the various animals spread out everywhere. «I didn’t think you would be open today, though. I was quite surprised.»

D blinked. «Why would I be closed?»

She smiled. «Well, even if he isn’t the kind of visitor I at first assumed, you do still have a guest, do you not?»

D’s smile froze as his stomach dropped. «Ah. I’m afraid Signore Orcot has already left.»

She blinked in surprise. «That was a quick visit, then.»

D inclined his head. She frowned. «I hope it wasn’t – Count D, I really do apologise for my assumptions that evening. I didn’t mean any harm.»

«There was no harm done.» D turned to the tea trolley and put the kettle on. «He simply had to leave again.»

She was still frowing when he turned back. «But to come all the way from America and then only stay for an evening …»

«He lives in Lyon. It is not that far away.» D tried to keep his smile going. «Would you like some tea, Signorina Pericolo?»

She chuckled. «Gina Marinelli. Gypsy Periocolo is only my – stage name, if you want.»

He inclined his head again. «Signorina Marinelli. Please have a look around while I prepare some tea.»

She meandered over to the sofa and knelt to take a good look at the big Ragdoll that had spread itself out over the space where Leon had sat earlier. «Aren’t you beautiful,» she said softly, offering a hand for the cat to sniff, then starting to scratch his ear when he pushed his head against her fingers. «Unusual, that, isn’t it?»

«Excuse me?» D turned his attention back to the kettle, expecting it to boil any second.

«Oh, well, your friend, I mean. Not that there aren’t a few Americans living abroad, but compared to Europeans, I always got the impression they don’t really like living in other countries that much. European countries even less. And then France! It’s not an easy country to live in for an American.»

D wished she would stop talking about Leon already. «I believe he is managing quite well.»

«Well, there’s no telling where people will feel at home, is there?» She straightened. «Love takes people to the strangest places.»

Suddenly his ears were buzzing. D gripped the tea trolley hard. «What makes you say that, Signorina?»

She looked at him in surprise. «Why, I thought he moved to France because of a woman.»

«No,» D heard himself say as if from far away. «He did not move to France because of a woman.»

She flushed. «Oh. Sorry. I must have misunderstood. Did he move for work, then?»

D stared at her and found that he could not answer. Because the correct answer was …

_Are you worried about me?_

_\- a job I have only thanks to you -_

_\- I can protect you -_

_What do you think I joined Interpol for?_

He swayed.

_No. He moved to France for me. To be in a position to track me down and find me again. He left the States for me, and me alone._

His knees felt like they would buckle. Gina was coming closer, her hand reaching for him, saying something, asking about his heart, but D hardly heard her. He followed her gentle tug, though, as she directed him to a chair, and accepted the cup of water she offered him a moment later. He hang onto it as if it would save his life.

«Count D? You’re white as a sheet. Should I call for a doctor?»

«No,» he managed to say, «no, thank you. There is a little box on the tea trolley, my medicine is in there – if you could please -»

She stood and returned a moment later with the ornate box. «This here?»

He opened it and took one of the white pills out of it, putting it in his mouth and washing it down. It was dextrose, but she did not know, and the little pills looked like drugs. «Thank you. Do not worry, and don’t let me keep you. I will be alright in a moment.»

«Are you sure?» She made no move. «I can stay until you’re feeling a bit better. Or call a doctor.»

D managed a weak smile, his brain slowly starting to work again. «There is no need for that, Signorina. I will be fine in a few moments. It takes effect very quickly. Please, though, could you turn the sign on the door to closed when you leave?»

She stood, recognising the dismissal for what it was, but still hesitating. «Are you really sure? I don’t mind sticking around. I don’t have anywhere to be.»

D put a bit of force behind his words. «Signorina, you are truly very kind, but I would much prefer to recover alone for a bit. Rest assured, I am quite alright now that I have had my medicine.»

«Alright then.» She started moving towards the door. «I’ll come by for that pet at another time.»

«Please do.»

The door closed and there was blessed silence.

Then T-chan was beside his chair, looking drawn and worried. “Count, what’s the matter with you?”

D rose so quickly his head swam for a moment. But he could not afford to lose any time. His lips were cold, so cold, his entire body felt like it was strung taut like a bowstring, and he needed to know the truth.

“I have to go to the airport.”

Tetsu gawked, as did the other pets. “What? Why?”

D found his purse and slung it across his shoulder. “I need to speak with Leon.”

Tetsu stared at him. “You just kicked him out three hours ago! Why do you want to talk to him now?”

D whirled around. “Leon lives in France now, T-chan. _He moved to France.”_

“So?” Pon-chan followed them as well as D hastened, almost ran, out of the shop. It took only moments for him to hail a taxi, and he jumped inside, closing the door before the driver could protest the two animals.

“Aeroporto Internazionale di Roma–Fiumicino,” he said and the taxi took off. Tetsu slid down between the seats, from whence he stared at D, expression challenging.

“Why are we going after Leon, Count?”

D closed his eyes for a moment, trying to swallow around the lump in his throat. “You were right, T-chan. You were right, and I was wrong, and I need to rectify my mistake before it is too late.”

There was surprised silence. “I was?”

D wanted to cry and yell and throw something, but he could not. “Yes. You were right. It is too late for Leon to turn back. I did not see it. I did not realise.”

“What did you not realise?” Tetsu snapped and D looked at him, and knew his eyes were wide with terror.

“I did not realise what it meant for a man like Leon to leave the States and go live in a country like France.”

Tetsu fell quiet again. Pon-chan climbed up on the seat and into his lap. “Count -”

“And now you want to talk to Leon to do – what exactly?” Tetsu interrupted her. D swallowed.

“I only need to know the truth, T-chan. I only need to know if I am right.”

“And what are you going to do if you’re right?” Tetsu challenged him and D felt his stomach turn. “You know that if he’s well and truly gone, there’s nothing you can do to dissuade him from it.”

He shook his head, heart hurting and aching in his chest. “I can. If Leon has well and truly gone down that road -”, he had to swallow, his chest almost bursting, “- if he has gone that far, I will have no other choice but to make him forget he ever met me in the first place.”

Pon-chan cried out in shock and dismay. Tetsu stared at him, face white. “You can’t be serious. What – you always _wanted_ him to -”

D’s hands tightened until he could almost hear the bones in his fingers crack. “I will do whatever has to be done.”

_To protect Leon._

He did not say it out loud. He knew they understood even so.

* * *

He had never cared as little for the stares he was attracting, striding into the airport with Tetsu and Pon-chan in tow, his eyes already searching for the big announcement boards.

“Did he say which flight he’d be on?” Pon-chan had trouble keeping step, but D did not slow down until he had found them. His eyes immediately went up to the left upper corner. The clock showed seven minutes past four.

“He said it’d leave at four,” Tetsu replied when he did not. D did not pay him any heed. 15:46 Bari. Partito. 15:53 London Heathrow. Tardivo. 16:00 Paris. Partito. 16:05 Copenhagen. Partito. 16:11 Oslo. Imbarco.

There was no flight to Lyon.

“He’s on the Paris plane. We’re too late to catch him on the ground,” Tetsu stated, voice quiet. D took a deep breath and his eyes off the announcement board. Pon-chan made a little sound of distress.

“It was unlikely that we would get here on time,” D said, his voice sounding a lot more calm and collected than he felt. “We will simply leave a message for him.”

They followed him without a word as he made his way to the airline desk. The young woman behind the counter looked up and smiled at him. D stopped. «Signora, I need to find a passenger travelling on one of your flights. Would you kindly help me?»

«Certainly, Signore. What is their name?»

His breath was so shallow. D forced himself to breathe more deeply. «Leon Orcot. O-r-c-o-t. Leon. He is on the 4 o’clock Paris flight. A tall blond man, blue eyes, dressed in light blue jeans and an Aerosmith bandshirt. He may be wearing a leather jacket or a chequered flannel shirt over it.»

The attendant stared at him before turning back to her computer, suddenly slightly suspicious. «Sir, I cannot pass on information about passengers -»

«I am not asking you to» D cut her off, impatient. «I am asking you to pass on a message to him. You can do that, can you not? Rely it to him when he lands?»

«Oh.» She frowned. «Yes.»

He waited impatiently while she typed. Her frown deepened. «Sir, are you sure about the name?»

«Yes.»

She looked back up at him. «There is nobody of that name on the flight.»

D froze. «What?»

She looked back at the screen. «There is a Leon Orcot booked into that flight alright, but he never boarded. They gave up on him after the third call. The plane left five minutes late due to it.»

It felt like a touch would shatter him. «Thank you», D said, lips cold. Pon-chan put her arms around his throat.

«I’m sorry, sir.»

He nodded and turned away. T-chan and Pon-chan were quiet until they were sitting in another taxi, the driver patiently waiting on his orders.

“Maybe something came up at the local HQ and he stayed,” Tetsu suggested. “Or he got delayed for some reason.”

D shook his head. “They would have cancelled or re-booked him onto a different flight. And Leon would not let himself get delayed. This is his job. There are few things he takes seriously, but this is one of them.”

“Maybe he decided he wouldn’t leave after all, and returned to the shop,” Pon-chan said, eyes hopeful. “He could -”

Tetsu snorted. “Right, that’d do him a fat lot of good! Haven’t you listened to what the Count said? The only thing he’s going to do is put a spell on him to keep him away from the shop forever. You might as well hope for him to walk straight into the lion’s den and -”

“No!”

They both quieted and looked at D with wide eyes. He took a deep breath, his heart racing in his chest, and opened the door. There were at least five pidgeons fluttering around, examining the bins for something interesting. He called out to them and they perked up and came, clustering around them. D knelt down and swallowed. “My apologies for disturbing you. Could I ask a favour of you?”


	7. Rome, Italy

His eyes felt like someone had glued them together, and he had a massive headache.

Leon groaned, tried to rub his forehead and found he could not move his hands. His eyes snapped open despite the blaze of pain when the light hit them.

He was in a room made of rough concrete walls and tiles on the floor, and he was lying on his side, his hands and feet tied together in an uncomfortable position. A cellar, most likely. There seemed to be no natural light, only the glare of a lightbulb above him.

He moved his head carefully and realised that the rope wound around his feet and hands was also tied around his throat. He could feel it when he swallowed. The beginnings of panic started sneaking through him when he realised that if he moved his head too much, he would likely suffocate himself with the rope.

Shit. He was in one hell of trouble. But at least he seemed to be alone for the time being. That was something, at least. He could really do without Spencer Donald’s face when waking up like this.

Carefully he moved his hands again only to find that the rope was definitely too tight for him to wriggle his hands out of it. Sighing a little, Leon gave up and closed his eyes again. Those Russian bouncers sure knew their job. He had not exactly expected anything different, though. Spencer Donald had had his reasons to hire them.

Right, how had he ended up here in the first place? The last thing he remembered was leaving HQ and walking towards his hotel to pick up his things. He had not been paying attention to his surroundings, and yes, that had been a bad idea, thankyouverymuch. In some or the other way, they had managed to get the drop on him. Trichloromethane or something like it, judging by how his head felt. On the other hand, he had really not been in the mood to care about vengeful business tycoons stalking him. He had been too busy with D, with the way they had taken their goodbyes as if they knew exactly that this was the last chance they would ever get at talking to each other.

If things went D’s way, it probably had been. And Leon had been … too shocked and tired and worn out by recent events to be able to put up as much of a fight as he would otherwise have.

He opened his eyes, stared at the bland, grey wall and swallowed a few times. D. He was pretty much his only hope right now of getting out of this alive. Spencer Donald would never let him live, not with what he knew Leon had done to him. If he could just get a message to D, via a spider or a mouse or some other animal, maybe he would – maybe he would, for old time’s sake, help Leon out of here. Surely, even if he stuck to what he had said about them not being friends, he would not want Leon to die. Would he?

He carefully craned his neck, looking around the barren room once more, hoping to catch sight of some animal, something small that might have made it in here and found the conditions to its liking.

He did not get far. A door opened behind his back and a voice spoke, sending a shudder through him.

“I see you have woken. Well, well. And what, Agent Orcot, shall I do with you now?”

* * *

“What are we doing here?” Tetsu sent him a half unbelieving, half confused look, but D could not be bothered about that right now. He looked up at the wall, wondering if anyone would take notice if he simply jumped over it.

“Oi! Count!”

He turned and almost glared at Tetsu. “What are we doing here?” he repeated and D bit his lip.

“We are saving Leon,” he replied and turned back to the wall. Pon-chan grabbed his cheongsam and he did glare at her, now.

“Don’t go in there! They’re probably armed!”

D bit his lip again. “They most certainly are, Pon-chan, which is exactly why I need to go in there.”

“You already called the police,” Tetsu said, his voice edged with concern. “You don’t have to go in there yourself. They’ll be here any moment now. You called them from the car.”

D shook his head and put a hand against the wall to steady himself, closing his eyes. His blood was rushing in his ears and he felt like he had forgotten how to breathe. He could not remember being this afraid, ever. “No,” he whispered. “I cannot leave him in there.”

With that, he took two steps back, bent his knees and jumped. His cheongsam was ripped out of Pon-chan’s grasp, he heard both of them yell, but he was landing on the lawn inside the garden and straightening as quickly as he could, prepared to fight off whoever might be there.

The garden was empty. D took a deep breath, brushed off the silk and started walking.

“Count!” Tetsu yelled from outside the wall. “Come back here! Leon will be fine! Don’t go in there!”

“You could be killed!” Pon-chan chimed in and D turned back to the wall.

“Stay where you are,” he ordered, voice astonishingly calm. “I will be back once I have made sure Spencer will not kill Leon.”

He ignored their voices as he moved further through the garden, past the huge swimming pool twinkling in the glaring summer sun, along the small path that wound around the house and led up to a set of glass doors he knew would most likely be open. They had to be open as per D’s own orders, to allow the various animals free entrance to the house.

He had not yet made it there when a young woman came towards him from the bushes, smiling brightly. “Count! This is a surprise! What are you doing here?”

He stopped and returned the bird’s smile as good as he could. “Estefania. Is your master home?”

She nodded, the smile diminishing somewhat. “He came earlier, with three men.”

D forced himself to keep breathing. “Was one of them a young, blond American with blue eyes?”

She eyed him curiously. “I don’t know if he was American, but he was young and blond. I couldn’t see his eyes though. He was asleep. The two dark men were carrying him.”

D’s knees wanted to buckle. “Do you know what happened to him?”

She wrinkled her brow. “No. They took him to the Master’s study and he closed the door. Why?”

“This man is a friend of mine, and I am afraid your master is about to hurt him very badly.”

Her eyes widened. “No!”

“He has done something your master does not approve of. Estefania, I need you to help me find that man before something happens to him!”

The urgency in his voice seemed to convince her that arguments about her master’s character could wait until later, and she nodded and turned back into the house. D followed immediately, barely taking notice of the expensive understated elegance around him. He used to enjoy being in Spencer Donald’s villa. It was spacious, cool in the hot Italian summer and bore witness to the amount of money the man could spend on interior decorators. But now he wished fervently he had never set foot inside. If he had not accepted Spencer Donald as a customer, despite knowing his type, they would never have met at that party. Leon would not have asked him for help with the devices, they would not have gone to that stupid fundraiser and they would never have said all of those things that should have remained unsaid forever.

“In here,” Estefania said, stopping in front of a heavy, dark door. D put a hand against the wood, preparing himself mentally.

Then he pushed it open.

The room was empty. His heart stopped beating for what felt like a very, very long moment. He turned to Estefania, who looked as confused as he was. “But I saw them go in there! I’m sure of it! And there’s no other door inside!”

D could not say anything. His mouth was parched, his knees were weak, he was shaking. _Leon. Oh heavens, Leon!_

“Are you looking for the big guys?” a breathy voice asked from the direction of the desk. D spun around. Two young boys were sitting under the desk, pointed noses and round ears extended in their direction.

“Yes! Yes, we are!”

They giggled and exchanged glances. “They went downstairs.”

D blinked. “Downstairs?”

One of them crawled out from under the desk and moved in the direction of the big bookshelf along one wall. “Oh yes. Through this door.” He extended a hand, moved a few books and suddenly, with a charring sound, part of the bookshelf disappeared into the ground. D stared at it, not quite able to believe his eyes.

Then he hurried forward, almost running, and put a foot on the top of the shelf that had had now become the first step in a staircase leading down. The boy was still watching him, jet-black eyes gleaming. “How do I open it from downstairs?”

He smiled. “I’ll come with you and show you.”

D breathed a quiet sigh of relief as he picked up a familiar scent wafting up from the passage. “Yes, please.”

* * *

He could hear the crack as the foot hit his chest, but the pain was blinding enough for Leon to not pay it too much attention right now. Instead he squeezed his eyes shut, groaning despite himself. He did not see the fist coming, but he felt it connect with his jaw. The rope tightened dangerously around his throat and for a second, he was scared to death that it would choke him.

Then he moved his head and found to his immense relief that there was still enough room for him to breathe, even if he could not take deep breaths anymore.

On the other hand, maybe it would be better to tighten the rope at this point. At the rate they were going, he was not sure how much longer he would be able to stand it. If only he was not so scared of being choked to death.

He opened his eyes when the next blow failed to fall to find the bouncers staring at him, their faces blank. Spencer Donald got up from his chair, leaning over to look him in the eyes, his expression hard and unforgiving. “So tell me, _Mr._ Orcot, before I have them finish you, how did you convince Count D to bring you into my house?”

He made no reply.

Spencer Donald got up and walked around him, his gaze travelling over his whole body. Leon did not move, did not give any sign that he took notice of him. “You don‘t want to tell me? Oh well, you don’t actually need to. I can imagine, although I wouldn’t have thought that someone like the Count would let himself be tricked by good looks.” He clicked his tongue.

Another fist connected with his jaw. Leon‘s head was thrown to the side, the rope tightened, and he desperately held his breath. “I’ll make sure to let him know about your betrayal once you are taken care of. Poor man. He is such a delicate being, and _so_ kind to his animals! Really, it was most inconsiderate of you to choose him for your little undercover operation.”

Soft steps came down the passage. Leon spat out blood and tried to breathe shallowly as he took stock. Two ribs at least, a few more bruised most likely. He glared up at the three men, quietly wondering if they had already spotted the intruder.

The question was answered a moment later when Spencer Donald suddenly rushed past him, clearly in an attempt to block the view of the person rounding the corner. “Count D! What brings you here? You really should’ve waited for me upstairs -”

“I think not.” With the rope tied around his neck the way it was, Leon could not turn his head to look at D, but he felt him stepping up behind him where he was half kneeling, half lying on the floor, the silk whispering against his own clothes.

“My, my, Spencer. The poor agent.” The voice was deceptively soft and genial. “Is it wise to beat up a member of Interpol? And such a marvellous specimen, too. It is a shame to damage his pretty face.”

Surprised silence reigned the room while Leon permitted himself to close his eyes and smirk just a little bit, his heart giving a painful tug. D. D at his very best.

“You – I was not aware you knew this crook was Interpol, Count.” Donald sounded off-balance, uncertain. Not surprising. Leon could not help the smirk getting a bit wider. A hand came to rest on his head and almost unconsciously, he leant into the touch.

“Mr. Orcot and I have been acquainted for a long time. While I was surprised at his new career choice, I was not at all surprised to find he had stayed in law enforcement after my fairly abrupt departure from his hometown a few years ago.”

“But -”

By the tone of his voice, Leon could tell that D had raised an eyebrow. “Yes, Spencer?”

The man sputtered. “He – if you knew, why did you -”

It rose even higher, judging by the sarcasm. “Oh, Spencer, you poor man. Appearances can be so deceiving, can they not? If you had not decided to think of me as a homosexual pretty much from the start, you would hardly have been so naive. Mr. Orcot and I have never had the kind of relationship you assumed. However, it – suited me to let you believe whatever you wanted about the two of us.”

“You lied to me!”

D was twirling a strand of hair around his fingers now. Leon leant closer to him, wanting to wrap his arms around his legs like he was a child. “I most certainly did not. You let yourself see what you wanted to believe.”

“You brought him into my house knowing full well what he was up to?” Spencer Donald almost sounded hurt. “After all the things I did for you, this is how you repay me?”

D snorted softly. “After all the things you did for me, indeed. What have you ever done for me that I could not have achieved of my own? Do not delude yourself into believing that it was you who introduced me to the high society of Rome. My grandfather was supplying the rich and powerful of this town with pets before your great-grandfather was even born. You have done nothing to earn my gratitude. Mr. Orcot, on the other hand – had good arguments on his side.”

Spencer Donald snarled. “Did he now?”

“Oh yes.” D’s fingers were still softly massaging his head and Leon felt himself relax despite the ropes around his body. “And not the kind that you have, again, immediately assumed. But we digress. The Polizia di Stato received an anonymous tip-off half an hour ago that the Interpol agent sent to help them has not boarded his flight and was instead seen being taken to your villa in your limousine. I expect they will be here shortly, so I will leave you a choice. You can either surrender without a fight and let me leave this ghastly room with Mr. Orcot, or I shall make sure the police will not meet with much resistance once they arrive.”

Leon felt a cold shudder run down his back at those words. “D -”

“Hush, Leon.” The voice was cold. “Mr. Donald needs to make a decision.”

Leon heard a snort and squeezed his eyes shut. He did not want to witness what was going to happen now. The click told him too clearly what Spencer Donald had decided on, and he wished he could get the man to see reason before he signed his own death warrant.

“I don’t know who you think you are, Count, but let me tell you one thing: Coming here with no weapons was not a wise choice. You should have waited for the police. Well, I don’t care either way. Interpol agents! Useless little fuckers! They don’t even have any jurisdiction!”

“Spencer, I would advise you to think well before you pull that trigger.” D’s voice was sharp now, with nothing of the lofty, dry amusement left in it. “I am not joking. I am merely asking you to release Mr. Orcot out of politeness. Whatever his profession, I am not interested in his demise, and certainly not at your hands. If Mr. Orcot should die one fine day, rest assured that it will be by my hand.”

Another shudder ran down Leon’s spine. He could not help it, yet the fingers were still caressing him. Spencer Donald’s voice sounded baffled. “What?”

“He has killed my father. For better or worse, Leon Orcot is mine, and I will not permit anyone else to lay hands on him.” D’s voice sounded completely flat. Leon opened his eyes, unable to see more than the knees of the men in front of him. ”D -”

“Well then, kill them both.”

The shot echoed in the small room. Leon fell on his side, D’s hand pushing him down with such force that he let out a small cry at his ribs being jostled. There was silk in front of him, the hem of D’s cheongsam, and it was moving in a flurry too fast for him to follow. More shots resounded, mixed with cries of pain. Leon wriggled against his bonds, trying to free himself. “D!” he yelled. Someone screamed. A heavy thud on the floor, then another. Leon gasped at the bouncer staring at him.

Then the eyes closed and blood oozed out of the man’s nose. From the corner of his eye, he could see D and Spencer Donald, the latter hanging in the air, D’s small, delicate hand around his throat. His left arm was hanging at his side, the silken sleeve soaked with red. “D!”

“I warned you, Spencer,” D said quietly. “Every time you entered my shop, I gave you another warning that you should never underestimate me. But you, in the true fashion of the men like you, decided to ignore my warnings. Now face the consequences.”

Spencer Donald’s face turned blue. His eyes rolled up and his body slackened. D held on for a moment longer before he opened his hand and the heavy man landed on the floor with a sickening thud.

Leon closed his eyes and hoped he was still alive.

* * *

“Leon!” D gasped, ignoring the pain in his arm and hurrying over to the fallen man. “What is the matter?”

His breath was coming in shallow gasps, the face terribly pale. D remembered similar occasions and fear again took hold of him. He quickly cut through the ropes, then clasped Leon’s face, willing him to open his eyes. “Look at me, Leon! Where are you hurt?”

The eyes opened and D almost sobbed at the pain in them. “Broke two of my ribs,” Leon said, his voice barely a breathy whisper. “Shit. Think one of them is about to puncture my lung.”

”No!”

He barely recognised his own voice and Leon mustered a smile. One hand came up to push a strand of hair out of D’s face, then cupped his cheek. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’ve had worse.”

“You need to go to hospital at once.” D tried to stand only to find that the hand was holding him down. Leon leant his head forward until it came to rest on D’s shoulder. “Leon, please! Let me go fetch help.”

“No way, D.” The voice was still only a whisper. ”They shot you, didn’t they? If you go upstairs now, they’ll want to take a look at you. You can’t risk that. Just stay here with me until you hear them coming, will you?”

Tears were choking him. “You don’t understand! They won’t find this room without help. It is hidden underneath the basement. The door only opens by using a mechanism. I need to show them the way, otherwise they will never find you in time.”

Leon made a sound that could have been a chuckle. “How’d you find it, then?”

D’s hand fisted itself into Leon’s stained shirt. “The mice showed me.”

Another sound that could have been a chuckle. “Shoulda known. Are they dead?”

Why the man would think about the scum currently adorning the floor was beyond D, but he replied. “Paolo Cocuzzi would not thank me for that, would he now? They are alive, although I expect that they will spend several days in hospital once they wake up.”

A soft chuckle as Leon’s other hand reached for his. “Thanks.”

“Leon, let me go.” Besides the fact that D had no idea how to react to this statement, Leon’s blood was oozing onto his cheongsam, and while the garment was ruined for good, he had no intention of permitting the man to suffer the same fate. “Detective, I did not save you back in that tower only to watch you die in this cellar.”

“No? Then what’d you save me for? To take revenge on me later, for your dad?”

D slowly shook his head, his throat corded up. “I never harboured any desire to watch you die, Leon. Ever.”

The blue eyes were hazy. It would not take long before Leon would slip into unconsciousness, and that meant that D needed to get help _now._ He caressed the cheek, half-dried blood leaving smears on his hands. There was another half-smile playing around Leon’s mouth. “Guess that goes for me as well.” His hand tightened in D’s cheongsam. “Wouldn’t want to watch you die, ever. Don’t want to see you put away, either. So you stay here with me and don’t let them see you. These Italian officers, they’re suspicious boys.”

D swallowed. It was surprisingly difficult. “I can handle it. You have seen me do so in the past.”

Leon shook his head, opening his eyes a little wider. “You’re soaked in blood and there’s three badly injured men in this room. What d’you think they’re gonna make of that? Besides, your arm is bleeding like nothing good.”

He hardly spared a glance at the injured limb and the flowers blooming underneath it. “It is nothing.”

“It’s not.”

“It is. It will heal in a few minutes. You, on the other hand, will not.” D tried to stand once more and was again held back by the weight in his arms.

“D, it’s alright. I found you. That’s all that matters. I found you and once this is over, you’re gonna leave again, and I’ll be left looking for you all over the world once more.” Leon’s eyes kept falling close. The tears stung in his eyes as D listened, unable to speak, bitter regret warring with fear. “Better to die here, isn’t it? While you’re still here. You can hold my hand and see me off.”

“What am I supposed to tell Chris?” he whispered, the first tear falling. Leon smiled. “I cannot possibly tell him that I watched you die. Moreover, before I let you return his drawing to me.”

“He’ll understand. Tell him that I love him, will ya?”

It was unbearable, how much _sense_ Leon could make all of a sudden, at the worst possible time.

D bent his head and pressed their foreheads together. There was blood on Leon’s, spilling from a cut in his scalp, right above his eye, but D found he couldn’t care less. When he pulled back, his breath was as shallow and hectic as Leon’s and his eyes were burning. “I will not,” he said, his voice strong and decided.

Before Leon could say another word, he pushed back his hair and stared into his eyes, concentrating on the spell. “Stay. Do not move until help arrives. Most importantly, Leon, stay alive!”

Being human, Leon was unable to resist. D could see it in his eyes, how he tried to fight it before resignation took over and he closed his eyes. He gently lowered him to the floor, making sure he was as comfortable as possible.

Then he straightened, stood and walked away at a brisk pace without once looking back.


	8. Lyon, France

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before we start: Heartfelt thanks to Brennus, Jay, Kat, Jamie, Lin and Han for helping give birth to this story by proof-reading, providing intense debate when I needed to discuss tropes and scenes, and generally putting up with me while I was on the roll. Also, apologies to Brennus, who had the misfortune to be present for some of my fits when things weren’t going the way I wanted them to go, and subsequently got sniped at. I have no excuse, but I do your laundry, so maybe we can call it even?

“Monsieur Léon!”

Being greeted by a bunch of pretty secretaries (even if half of them were male) was not the worst welcome Leon could have wished for. He smiled and accepted the varying forms of greetings alongside expressions of relief at his recovery with more good-natured joy than grace before striding off to his office.

Yang Wen looked up at his entrance and grinned at him. “So the hero is back.”

“I’m not -”

“- not a hero, I know.” He set his chair into motion and Leon watched in amusement as Wen closed his eyes and stopped only after the third rotation. Not Jill, admittedly, but Wen had his own perks as an officemate and partner. “So, Mr. Not-a-hero, what news do you bring from beautiful Verona?”

Leon frowned. “I was in Rome.”

Wen snorted. “And you’ve obviously never read _Romeo & Juliet._ Seriously, pal, brush up your Shakespeare.”

The flash of pain was short, but intense. Leon sat down at his desk, surveying the damage the last weeks had wrought. “Anything but that right now.”

Wen, in the process of spinning his chair again, stopped and took some time to scrutinise him. Leon turned on his computer and tried his best to keep his face blank.

“You seem a bit down for someone who’s just been part of an operation taking down one of the worst smuggling syndicates in recent history.”

Leon stared at his screen, trying to push back the memory of D walking away from him, leaving him behind once more. “I’m fine. It just – wasn’t pretty.”

Wen nodded his understanding and turned back to his own screen. Leon bit his lip and looked out of the window. He had kind of hoped that D had learnt at least something from their encounter. Hell, not even learnt! Leon would gladly have settled for D just taking his feelings into consideration instead of going for the wash-rinse-repeat pattern of the last few years. But no, nothing. No postcards from undisclosed locations arrived, neither at the hospital nor his apartment in Lyon. There were no phone calls from someplace overseas that he could not even pronounce. Not even a flower left for him.

And the pet shop, of course, had disappeared as mysteriously as before, with no forwarding address. In the end, it turned out to not be important. Spencer Donald had almost laughed himself sick at the suggestion that he had conspired with Count D to kill Nikita Kshesinskaya (although, if the Commissario interrogating him had listened more closely, he might have noted that the laughter was slightly hysterical).

Whatever had prompted D to come looking for him at Spencer Donald’s villa, it was obviously not enough to convince him to stick around. And Leon just did not know if he could keep on searching after everything that had happened. D had seemed so terribly determined to keep him away. To _push_ him away, if he would not stay away of his own accord. Fine, he had admitted to not wanting Leon to die. But from the look of things, that meant something different for him than for Leon.

Even after four weeks of recovering, Leon still felt tired when he got up in the mornings, and the only silver lining on the horizon had been the prospect of returning to HQ and being around his colleagues again. But now, sitting here, he wondered if it was really worth the bother. He had taken this job knowing that if D stuck to his MO, he would sooner or later end up in the Interpol database. Yet he had only found him by accident, so that strategy did not seem to work as well as he had hoped.

He might as well quit and travel the world by throwing a dart at a map, hoping for another crazy coincidence. And who knew, maybe he would.

Suddenly he longed for Chris so desperately it took his breath away. He wanted to talk to him, sit down with him somewhere in a park or in his room back at his parents’ house, talk things through in person. Talk to someone who _knew_ D, who would _understand._ Both the need to find D and the need to just _listen_ to him, even when he told you things you didn’t like one little bit.

Something collided with his forehead and he jerked back. “Hey!”

Wen grinned at him. “Staring off into space isn’t gonna clear your inbox, you know. Coffee?”

Leon found a little smile. “Sure.”

Just as they were getting up, the door opened. “Monsieur Orcot, may I disturb you for a moment?”

They both sat back down and straightened. “Madame Maréchal. Of course.”

Their boss smiled as she stepped in. “Welcome back, to begin with, and congratulations. Although I have to add, I would prefer you to be more careful in the future. I have little inclination to explain to my superiors why one of their best analysts has been forced to hand in his permanent notice.”

Leon blushed and averted his gaze. “Yes, Madame.”

“Good.” She stopped in front of his desk and casually leant a hip against it. “Now, seeing as you have already filled in your reports -” they both studiously ignored Wen muttering “bored much in hospital?” in the background, “- I shall content myself with de-briefing you tomorrow. I believe you have earnt yourself a day to settle back in.”

Leon could not help the grin. “Thank you, Madame.”

She stopped at the door, and her smirk had alarm bells ringing in Leon’s head. “By the by, Monsieur, I have brought someone along for you. An old acquaintance, I understand.”

Wen sent a questioning glance at Leon, who looked equally perplexed. “Madame?”

“I gave him the day off. Enjoy yourself,” he heard her say to someone outside in the corridor. Fabric rustled and the next moment, it felt like his rib had punctured his lung again. Without noticing, he stood and took a few steps. Slender pale hands reached out and he grasped them, throat working with no words coming forth. Mismatched eyes smiled up at him, uncertain and questioning.

“Monsieur Orcot. I am relieved to find you have made a full recovery.”

“D,” Leon croaked and the lashes fluttered, fanning out over pale cheeks for a moment before D looked back up at him, smile a little more certain now.

“I was equally pleased to discover that you and I find ourselves in the same city once more. I recently set up shop in the Rue Tronchet. Perhaps, if you like, you and I could have a cup of tea together?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that we have finished, don’t get your hopes up – the next chapter is exclusively dedicated to a discussion of the tropes used in this fic. Proceed with caution and read only if you really want to know. I promise, you aren’t missing out on anything story-related :-)


	9. Notes on tropes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter exclusively contains notes on my thoughts about this story, especially tropes that I used, subverted or decided against. It is not part of the story any more, but for whoever is interested, please feel free to read through the meta discussion :-)

**Notes on general tropes**

Right, so I thought I would say a few words about the way I wrote this fic, because there’s a few things coming together in this one, mainly concerning tropes often employed. I like analysing literature, so in the interest of fair play, I’ll do it with my own stuff as well. I’m not writing an academic paper though, so this compilation is pretty much me pointing out storytelling devices alongside tropes/clichés I used, subverted or abused, with the occasional longer explanation as to why I made which decision.

Please be aware, I am assuming you have read the story, so if you haven’t, this survey **will** spoil the end for you.

Let’s start off with some basic considerations from the planning stage.

1) Reunion fics as a “genre”

While it is not technically a genre, it might as well be, given the frequency, because reunion fics are, for obvious reasons, a _thing_ in this fandom, as is Leon looking for D. While I enjoy reading them, I also see several problems with the way they often go about things. For one, Leon needs to make enough money to continue his search, pay for visas, flights and the like and while I would love to pretend it’s totally doable while working random odd jobs, I travel too much myself to believe in that, not to mention that it’s not as easy to come by these jobs when you haven’t got the required paperwork, which can take really long to process. (That is, unless you want to go for cash-in-hand jobs, which could get Leon in a world of trouble he really doesn’t need while looking for D.) And while Leon is maybe a bit rash, he’s not an idiot, he would know he needs a steady source of income _and_ a way of finding clues as to D’s whereabouts. Making him an Interpol agent seemed like a pretty good solution to either problem, also because it is somewhat justifiable to have him go to different countries for work purposes, not just to look for D, which would help immensely with visas and making the most of his vacation time. (My apologies at this point to Interpol, I have taken a lot of creative licence in how I portray his job.)

Interestingly enough, assuming that Leon kept a steady job until he finally found D doesn’t contradict canon. We have no idea how old Chris actually is when he refers to Leon’s disappearance 20 years previously. He might well be in his late 20s or early 30s, leaving a few years between D’s and Leon’s respective disappearances, during which Chris still knew exactly where his brother was. (I know Chris doesn’t look like it, then again, Leon doesn’t look like being in his late 20s either at the end of the series, and he would be if he’s 24 (or older) at the start of it.)

2) Reunion

The reunion, wherever it takes place, immediately concentrates on the both of them and the unresolved issues in their relationship, possibly followed by sex or the promise of it. However, there’s such a thing as being willing and emotionally prepared for the kind of conversation they need to have. And what if neither of them is willing to face those issues just at that point in time, because despite everything, they don’t feel up to that discussion? What if there are external circumstances preventing them from discussing these issues straight away? I wanted to write something where the issues are there, both know they have to talk about them, both _need_ to talk about them, but for both of them, there are good reasons not to make it their first priority. For Leon, it’s the very real worry that D is about to get in over his head, what with the recent advances of technology and him getting caught in a power struggle he wasn’t aware was going on. D’s reasons are a bit more complicated, and tie in with other tropes that I’ll be getting on to.

3) Reunion storylines

Generally speaking, reunion fics tend to contain very little action and very few events connected to anything outside of their relationship, in short, they don’t have a plot (unsurprisingly, as quite a few of them are short ficlets or long one-shots at best, and don’t need one). This is not meant as criticism, that’s just the way it is. Nonetheless, I wanted to experiment with having their post-canon relationship developing alongside a storyline like in the series itself and see how well I could get it to work. Blame it on my recent aversion to writing introspective and uneventful stories, but I wanted excitement, breathlessness and boiling emotions which, for a change, did not stem (solely) from a hormone surplus. And I kind of wanted to start their post-canon relationship off on what would feel like familiar territory for both of them, a safe space in the middle of their own confusion about how to deal with this unexpected reunion. Going through an adventure together, much like they have done back in LA, would provide a nice backdrop for them to slowly face up to their issues, or so I thought.

These were the three main points I had in mind when I started developing the storyline for _An Italian Job (of sorts),_ so what follows next is how I tried to incorporate them into the actual plot. I’ll do so chapter by chapter, and again, please be warned that if you haven’t read the story or the respective chapter yet, this is going to spoil it for you.

All things considered, reading how I put the whole thing together might ruin the story as a whole for you based on the principle that nobody wants to know how their food has been prepared XD So please proceed with caution.

**Notes on tropes for Chapter 1**

The main trope of Chapter 1 is, obviously, the Reunion. Most of the time, it takes place in the shop, with Leon walking in, alternately offering Chris’s drawing, sweets or both to D. On rare occasions, it takes place outside the shop, but nevertheless, they tend to find themselves alone fairly quickly.

I settled for the chance encounter because, well, it’s a change of pace, and additionally, for all we know from canon, so far D has always managed to elude Leon when Leon was specifically looking for D. It’s a weak rationale, but I figured one can apply the same generic idea one does when one is trying to remember something that is just at the tip of one’s tongue: The less you try to, the sooner you’ll remember.

Would it actually work with D? I have no idea. There is nothing to contradict the assumption in canon though, because so far, Leon hasn’t caught up to D. To a certain extent, I also needed to create a setting that would allow their reunion to “go wrong” from the outset. Yes, I wanted that to happen, because I wanted to explore the alternative that so far few people seem to have written about ─ the reunion where the actual reunion is not the focus of the fanfic.

To be fair, I immediately took it to the opposite extreme, and there is plenty of room in the middle between the two alternatives. How so? Well, to begin with, they are usually alone or semi-alone (sharing a table in a cafe counts as semi-alone, because it’s hardly likely others will interrupt them). Here, they are in one of the most public settings imaginable. Usually, they have no other obligations and may commence speaking to each other. Here, Paolo and Ottavia have each taken one of them under their wing and expect them to follow them to other guests to be introduced. Generally, they don’t need to keep it secret that they know each other. Here, they do not get the chance to even betray their surprise at the unexpected meeting, because there is little time (as is generally the case at such events). And at least Leon realises quickly that it might be more opportune to keep their acquaintance a secret, because he receives the information that D has once more come into the focus of a police investigation.

Change any of those premises, and it would have gone down very differently. Astonishingly enough, in reunion fanfictions, the premises are rarely changed. The details vary, but only on a micro-level, in terms of how the conversation goes and how the characters react. It’s hardly ever the setting that gets tweaked to allow more room for maneouvering. By not really giving them the time to figure things out between themselves, and especially by having Leon receive the information about D’s dead customer, the stage is set for a very different reunion taking place.

**Notes on tropes for Chapter 2**

1) Animosity

The first trope in this chapter is the animosity between Leon and D, which of course disappears to large degree over the course of the series. Yet in this fic, it is back in full force, resulting in two more tropes tying in with it:

2) Extensive Fighting And Yelling

3) Leon Accusing D Of Some Crime

One might almost suspect I was aiming to recreate the impression of their first encounters from the series! More specifically, the aim was to recreate it against the backdrop of the whole original series. Why? Because it’s supposed to make readers question what in the world is going on here. It’s no coincidence that the whole section is written from D’s POV. Why would Leon attack D like that? Why would he start with the same old accusations that have proven to be of little use back in LA? More importantly, why would he _care,_ when he has achieved his goal of finding D, which, this being a reunion fic, is par for the course?

This ties back in with the comments I made before. Most reunion fics tend to describe everything as if the meeting is happening in a vacuum. But it isn’t. Four years have come and gone, four years during which they have had no personal contact. D does not know what Leon does for a living these days, and as I mentioned, he has to do something. Leon has no idea who D is associated and does business with. He is furious when he finds out, but the twist here is that he isn’t furious because of D’s shady dealings or him being involved in yet another death. He is furious because the original has happened, and his feelings towards D have changed.

D, on the other hand, is unable to recognise the paradigm shift at first, with their encounter so reminiscent of their original first encounters. The animosity he first suspects to be the cause for Leon’s actions turns out to be something else; the yelling and fighting is a vent for a different kind of emotion than it used to be. And while Leon is accusing D of a crime, his intention is as far from arresting D as it could possibly be.

**Notes on tropes for Chapter 3**

This leads over into Chapter 3, which as such does not contain any tropes that I think need to be mentioned specifically since it is mainly expanding what happened in Chapter 2 and setting the scene for Chapter 4. It does introduce a new aspect though, in the form of D’s perspective on the whole matter. Now that he has realised that Leon has had a paradigm shift, and realised the extent of it, he has to consider what he is going to do about it. The chapter does play a bit with his feelings for Leon and his inability to push him away for good, but it mainly brings a thought into the discussion that I also don’t see too often, namely that D is well aware that Leon’s search for him is bordering on obsession, and he knows very well, maybe too well, where such obsessions can take people. He cares for Leon, therefore he doesn’t want him to suffer the same fate as Howell or any of his customers with the same affliction; unfortunately, he also _cares_ for Leon, and therefore cannot bring himself to push him away again, leaving him in quite the moral dilemma where running away is the best he can manage while hoping Leon will give up of his own accord.

If something along the lines of Leon’s search for D potentially being unhealthy or dangerous is even mentioned, it is usually mitigated by something happening in the story – I’ll be getting back to that later on.

**Notes on tropes for Chapter 4**

Potentially my favourite chapter, mainly because Leon gets to take calling D a woman to the absolute extreme by implying he can pose as a prostitute. Other tropes in this chapter are

1) Going Undercover & Pretending To Be A Couple

2) D Is Cultured, Leon Isn’t

3) Leon Is A Misogynist

4) D Is In Charge

5) Having Sex While On A Mission and/or Getting Stuck In A Cupboard

Chapter 4 is in some respects a diversion from what is going on underneath, because the focus shifts from how Leon and D are dealing with their unexpected reunion to how they are working together to accomplish Spencer Donald’s arrest. Therefore some of the tropes employed here aren’t Pet Shop-specific, but genre-typical, especially 1) and 5).

1) Mainly it is Leon who goes undercover, but to a certain extent also D when he enters the first floor. But the actual subverted trope here is Pretending To Be A Couple, an often-employed trick to help UST between two characters along. In this case, I twisted it around, because simply using the trope by itself would have been a bit too boring. In my opinion, at least. Leon and D therefore come up with a backstory and explanation for Leon’s presence. The punchline is of course that in the end nobody is interested in it, because it’s just so much more convenient to make them an item ;-) Refuting these assumptions would however endanger their cover, so they keep quiet.

2) and 3) are pretty firmly rooted in canon, or, well, 2) is rooted in canon, where D makes several comments to that extent. 3) is more a matter of how canon is interpreted and contextualised, and both tropes are subverted in this chapter, though only in part. Since it is mainly D’s actions and reactions in canon which help create the impression that Leon has no culture and is potentially misogynistic, naturally D also needed to be the chapter’s “narrator”. He has to revise some of his former assumptions about Leon over the course of the evening. Some of them may be blamed on D’s direct influence and manner lessons or Leon having matured in the four years in between, but there are other aspects where D suddenly has to face the fact that he’s been underestimating Leon all along.

2) While there are a number of other aspects I could’ve gone for, I chose ballroom dancing and formal introductions, because they made the most sense against the backdrop of Leon’s cultural background. Learning ballroom dancing to score with girls can render even such an unlikely candidate as Leon willing to go to those lengths, and luckily for him, he doesn’t actually have to prove his skills. Formal introductions I imagine he would have had to learn once working for Interpol. Ballroom dancing additionally had the benefit of providing me with a nice in for 3) I rather liked writing that discussion, to be honest ^^ Fanfiction tends to regard the few instances where we get a glimpse of Leon’s romantic/interpersonal relationships in canon as absolute when it comes to this, so Leon is frequently portrayed as nothing short of a misogynist or, at the very least, being very superficial when it comes to relationships with women on the basis of his comments when he sees attractive women. Now, I can see where people are coming from with that, yet in my experience misogyny is more complex than somewhat juvenile, tactless and inappropriate comments about women (some of which, I shall readily confess, I make about attractive men). Misogyny, in my experience, very, very often shows itself in more subtle ways than the kind of comments Leon makes, namely in the kind of behaviour men exhibit around women they are personally acquainted with, particularly capable women. It is striking, to me, that even when Leon is dumped for another man, he does not go into an outraged rant about his ex’s character and possibly questionable morals; that while he ridicules Jill’s taste in novels, he never makes fun of or is seen to act condescendingly towards her where their work is concerned, but in fact takes her superior knowledge seriously; that he obviously holds his mother, who possibly raised him on her own, in great regard and is only ashamed about her having been sexually active at an advanced age (which, let’s be honest, pretty much every teenager would be), or following another translation, jealous of the future sibling he’ll have to share her attention with.

It is, of course, also quite interesting that when openly propositioned by a woman (even if she’s a plant), he insists on exchanging some basic courtesies like their names and occupations.

The pin-ups on his walls are a bit more difficult. To some extent they can however be explained by a culture that disproportionally focuses on female bodies, in combination with a wish on Leon’s part to appear very masculine – which would not surprise me if he grew up with a single mother, as there seems to be a tendency amongst some people to assume that boys raised by a single mother must be either overly feminine or gay. There is also the problem of which point of view someone takes on pornography, since it is by no means undisputed that pornography on the whole is misogynistic. I won’t go into that debate here, though, that is way beyond the scope.

There is something else that makes me wonder why he would even have those posters, though, and that is the fact that the only time he shows any real interest in them is when D tears them down. As a matter of fact, once given a plant, his focus clearly shifts from not being home (instead going for a drink with colleagues) to sitting at home and talking to the plant. The posters cannot be all that interesting if a plant manages to completely distract his attention from them …

4) Usually it’s D who is in charge of everything they do, even when Leon is supposed to be (terrorists kidnapping D? Leon to the rescue? Not so much …). But at this fundraiser, it’s actually Leon who gets to direct D’s every move, based on his superior experience with the kind of mission they’re on, letting D see yet another side of him that he never got to see in LA.

5) Again, the cupboard/cramped space to hide in is a favourite device employed to get two characters to confessing their feelings and/or having sex. It’s convenient, and it’s so overused it should, in my opinion, really be retired already. This one got included because I have a weird sense of humour, and I could not quite resist the temptation to try and fool my readers for at least a few seconds into believing that they were going to have that much-needed talk right then and there.

It would have been an easy way out, and so I didn’t take it.

**Notes on tropes for Chapter 5**

In part because for the general vain in which this fanfiction is written, it worked better to have a

1) Revealing Confrontation

to help them sort out some of their issues. Again, this is a popular way to force characters into revealing what they are really thinking, or let them have it out. There is little tweaking to be done here; it had to happen at some point during the story, because this is, after all, a reunion fic, and it would be too easy to pretend all of the issues that were present already in LA have mysteriously disappeared in the meantime. Now they have a whole bunch of new ones to add to the old pile! ;-) Amongst them

2) Leon Is Hurt By D Leaving The Way He Did

I didn’t see much point in turning this one upside down either, but I decided on a different take to what I often see, mainly because I wanted to explore how Leon dealt with the (emotional) fallout from the tower incident. We see him in canon walking with his crutch and obviously accepting everything that has happened before as reality. But we don’t see him _arriving_ at that point. Now, back at the hospital, when he opens the suitcase and sees the picture, he already seems pretty accepting of everything, but then again he’s likely high as a kite on meds, not to mention has literally just woken up from most likely a coma. Once he enters normal life again, sticking to this kind of acceptance is going to be more complicated, because it is difficult to hold on to what one knows as the truth if everyone around keeps telling you it isn’t/cannot be. Leon has had a long time to get used to the thought of D being _something else,_ so now that he knows for sure, he’s stubborn enough to not let go. That doesn’t mean that this new knowledge doesn’t hurt him, because suddenly he’s in a similar position to the one D was always in with him, with most people around him just plainly disbelieving him. Leon is a grown man with a job that depends on people not questioning his sanity, so he has nobody to talk to in order to help him rearrange his worldview around the new knowledge he has, and the one single person who could has left. Which, yes, does piss him off quite a bit, and provides the other half of the explanation for why this reunion isn’t working out quite the way it does in other fics. Taken each for itself, D’s involvement with Spencer Donald and the fact that he never contacted Leon again after the tower incident, but instead kept on avoiding him even when he started looking, would probably still have got Leon’s back up to some extent. In conjunction, he is livid, leading to their confrontations being as explosive as they are.

The next trope stretches from Chapter 5 into Chapter 6 and even further, so I am quickly going to say something about the second half of the chapter before I get to that. It features a terrible, terrible trope that can be termed “Convenient Coincidence”, and it is a difficult one to handle, because the convenient coincidence in this case is what warranted the implied rape/non-con tag for this story. I am fully aware that to some of you, it may appear callous to use a character’s near-death to drive the plot forward, even a character who hasn’t even been given a name. While I don’t talk about it specifically, I do hope I managed to convey via Leon’s and D’s reactions in Chapter 5 and 6 that both of them realise in retrospect that they were so caught up in themselves and their own problems that they have, yet again, managed to ignore what was going on around them. And once more, the world outside the shop, that does not revolve around them, breaks into their vacuum and reminds them that as much as they might wish this to be between the two of them, they cannot escape it completely.

As a final note on that particular storytelling device, it is by no means uncommon to use similar cases of convenient coincidences to drive plots forward. What I personally find more worrying about it is that frequently the characters do not seem much bothered by what is implied (or described) to have happened. While there are certainly characters who might not be, Leon is definitely not one of them, and therefore he reacts.

The last trope, as I said, stretches from Chapter 5 into Chapter 6, starting in the first half of Chapter 5 and continuing with Leon’s farewell in Chapter 6. It provides the premise for quite a few things that are happening in the final few chapters of the fic, so this one is really rather important.

3) Leon Becomes D’s Dream Human To Make This Work

I mentioned at the beginning that many reunion fics assume as a baseline that Leon has given up his old life as a consequence of his experiences, looking for D for answers and whatever else he may be looking for in any given story. Suffice to say that I follow it only to the extent of Leon getting a new job better suited to looking for D. There is frequently yet another dimension to Leon’s travels, because often, the journey he makes is taken to be a process of transformation for him, culminating with him becoming someone D can accept by his side (or, as the case may be, welcome into the shop) and only then finding him. That can take any form; Leon may or may not become immortal, turn from human into another creature, or may simply gain a broader horizon and better understanding of the world he lives in, thus allowing him to accept D for who he is.

People hardly ever seem to ask the question whether D would _want_ him to.

Now, why am I asking it?

Well, what has me a bit doubtful of that particular trope is that D has already accepted Leon by his side in canon. Probably by the end of volume 2, if we are to be honest, and while he rages on about all of Leon’s flaws and failings, he never makes an attempt to leave. There are two volumes between Destruction and Day Nursery, during which he could have up and left at any point in time. But he doesn’t.

Of course, that begs the question of why he still pushes him away in D, and frequently it appears to be interpreted as Leon not yet ticking all of the required boxes, hence the turning immortal/becoming something else but human. I always feel kinda sorry for him when that happens, and I also cannot help but wonder if D would actually be happy if Leon started ticking these boxes. In this fic, it turns out he’s not.

So he kicks him out in Chapter 6.

For good.

Or so he thinks.

**Notes on tropes for Chapter 6**

I was actually very tempted to simply end the story there and leave you guys to ponder D’s reasons for acting as he does. Just because it would have been a nice change of pace as well. There was another possible road I could have gone down by focusing on Leon’s reaction once D has so openly rejected him. Maybe I will, one day. It’s tempting.

Alas, I did not, because I had an end in mind, so instead of me changing my mind, D needed to change his mind. So here comes

1) Moving Countries For Love, delivered via The Mind-Changing Conversation

A very, very common trope, not only in fiction, but unfortunately in real life, although in my experience, it’s more often applied to women, because _obviously,_ a woman in a foreign country must have moved there for love. I have to admit, it gave me no small amount of satisfaction to have Gina apply it to Leon :-) At the same time, I harbour something of a dislike for what could be termed The Stern Talking-To or maybe The Mind-Changing Conversation. It’s such an overused device, one character having an epiphany while talking to another character. Then again, it’s well-used for a reason, because haven’t we all had those moments? It took me four attempts and at least two hours on the phone to write something that I could live with, which may be taken as an indication of my level of dislike.

That being said, the general consensus appears to be that it is terribly romantic to give up one’s whole life in one country to move to another for love. All I can say is, my husband and I have the misfortune to hold passports from different countries and don’t even speak the same native language to begin with. So, from personal experience, moving countries for love is great romance as long as you only do it in theory. It’s not so much fun when you have to up and leave _everyone_ you’ve been friends with for many years and then suddenly there’s a lot of water and hours of travel (not to mention significant amounts of money) between you and them and your family. Now, I’m not going to pretend it’s a recipe for disaster, although I have certainly seen it happen. Personally, I enjoy settling in a new country, and lord knows I’ve done it a few times. But it’s not easy. It’s never been easy. It will never be easy, and it only gets more difficult as I grow older, because everyone around me has not moved, and isn’t as interested in making new friends as I am. They all have their social circles figured out. There’s no space for newcomers, and one needs to put a lot of work into establishing a new network. Even so, you will be missing several years of shared experiences. It doesn’t matter how close you may have been to people back home; shared experiences tie people together, even if they’ll never be intimate friends. Suddenly, all of that will be gone, and you’ll have to rebuild it from scratch with new people.

And that doesn’t even take into account the language barrier. Love may conquer all, but love is of precious little help when you’re struggling to understand what people around you are saying.

Hence D’s meltdown when he realises the enormity of what Leon has done. It does not hit him at first, because D has likely moved a lot during his life and he doesn’t appear to have developed lasting ties in any of the places he’s been to before (although we don’t really know that either, seeing as the series doesn’t exactly detail his former life). So for him, leaving everything behind is probably not that much of a problem, especially because he gets to take everything that really _matters_ with him in the shop (excepting Leon and Chris).

For Leon, it’s somewhat different, and to be moving to France as an American … No offence meant, but for an English native speaker to move to France and live there on a day-to-day basis, it’s … interesting. It’s especially worrying for D since he knows for a fact that Leon was very happy living in the States, and has never shown any inclination to move countries (or even towns, for that matter), nor seems to have had much of a concept of handling cultural differences carefully (as D himself liked to point out). Which doesn’t help the situation.

Now, some of you may think that is not as momentous a decision as giving up his life to travel the world is.

On the basis of “been there, done that”, I disagree. Travelling the world (or countries, as it may be) is in some respects way easier than moving and settling somewhere, because you are perfectly fine only forming passing acquaintances. Settling requires a level of dedication that is quite a different kettle of fish – especially when you are, as Leon is, a young single male who isn’t a student, a father or in a line of work that will ease the process of developing new social bonds.

2) Last-minute Airport Reunions

Another trope that I think should be retired, hence my take on it. For as cute, fluffy and heartwarming as it may be, I cannot see Leon and D doing the Hollywood-reunion-hugging in full view of an airport full of people. And besides, I did say I wanted a story filled with breathlessness, excitement and emotions, and not following it through to the end seemed to be a fairly safe way of ensuring that the excitement lasted a bit longer yet.

This trope, as one of my beta-readers pointed out, does of course have two possible endings: 1) they are reunited at the airport and live happily ever after, 2) they are reunited after the one who went to the airport returns to the significant location, despondent, only to find that the other one has never boarded the plane and is waiting for them there. Commence happily ever after.

Neither appealed to me.

**Notes on tropes for Chapter 7**

1) Kidnapping A Character

For everyone who has read this story on fanfiction.net, you will have encountered this trope in the previous chapter already, because other than the AO3-version, on fanfiction.net Leon’s kidnapping actually gets its own scene. I wanted to see whether people’s reactions differed based on whether that piece of information was included. Sorry, and please feel free to go to fanfiction.net/AO3 and read the alternative version if you want ^^

Like I said, I’m not a fan of Last-Minute Airport Reunions, for several reasons, and I chose a variation that doesn’t crop up too frequently by making Leon miss his plane for reasons not of his own choosing. The main reason for including/excluding the scene where he is actually kidnapped was that the arc of suspense changes quite notably with only this little scene being left out or in. Either way, though, doing it like this beautifully served the purpose of keeping up the pace (breathlessness, excitement and boiling emotions, remember?) while being a further means of deconstructing Last-minute Airport Reunions. It also serves as another reminder that regardless of how Leon and D may feel about it, their reunion isn’t happening in a vacuum, but in a very tense kind of situation involving some really dangerous people.

As for the trope itself, generally putting one character in peril serves to have another character live through an epiphany that finally clarifies their feelings for the one in danger. It’s quite a common way of starting off a romantic relationship between characters, and pretty much a staple tool of storytelling. However, D isn’t exactly unaware of his feelings for Leon, or Leon’s feelings for him, for that matter. So instead of epiphanies, what they get is a repeat performance of …

2) D To The Rescue

Potentially the closest to canon tropes I have come in this fic, but then, I wasn’t going to let Leon die by Spencer Donald’s hand (well, the Russian bouncer’s hands). And of course, things have to come to a head here, because extreme situations, especially situations where someone’s life is in danger, usually serve as a catalyst for whatever emotions have remained hidden so far. Again, I couldn’t use it towards that end, because it would have been very unconvincing if D suddenly had a change of heart here. Please do remember, he initially follows Leon intending to erase his memories of D. While he does not follow through with that, jumping from “I’ll make sure he stops following me by making him forget me” to “he’s mortally wounded, I’ll tell him I love him” is not what I would call consistent characterisation. It’s actually something that tends to annoy me when I read it (or something similar) in fiction. Yes, near-death situations can bring out formerly hidden truths, no doubt about that. That does neither mean that these revelations need to be of any lasting character nor that they have to directly contradict a character’s previously made statements or their already known intentions. Additionally, and sorry if I come across as being a bit of a spoilsport here, but declarations made in the face of imminent death – well, how seriously can you really take them, or, for that matter, how much will they impact on daily life when the situation is not life-threatening any more? It’s a bit like New Year’s resolutions, only with a lot more stress and adrenaline thrown in. It’s not that I think people consciously _lie_ when they say what they say, not by a long shot. They probably mean every word at that point in time. However, these situations are extreme, and extreme means also fraught with extreme emotions, so it would hardly be surprising if the words chosen were a lot stronger than the ones which would have been used in a situation where stress levels and emotions are less sky-high.

Besides, neither Leon nor D are great at big words aimed at one another.

So all of that leaves us not with revelations and declarations of love, but with … a repeat performance of the end of volume 10.

3) Giving Canon A New Spin

It’s not a trope proper, of course, but yes, I was indeed aiming for producing something as close to the end of vol. 10 as was possible without practically copying it. The ingredients that Akino used are all there, though: Leon is injured, potentially fatally so, and telling D what he thinks D should be doing, while D is unwilling to listen to what he is saying and has to make a choice between ensuring Leon’s survival and his own safety. It’s only in the details that the two scenes are different, the essence is more or less the same. And again, the choices both of them are making are the same that they have made before, although they have been through all of this already. Yet, since there are different premises underlying the whole scene, they are made for different reasons. Leon is, once more, accepting that these could be his final moments alive, but this time asking D to stay with him while he dies, which will also ensure that the police will never know D is responsible for the state of the other men in the room (funny how Leon only mentions _three_ badly injured men, when in fact, there are _four_ ); D once again makes the choice of keeping Leon alive at whichever cost to Leon personally, but knows that to achieve it this time around, he will have to reveal himself to the human police to ensure Leon is found, and he decides to run the risk, show himself and put Leon above his own safety.

What it boils down to is basically “circumstances have changed, Leon and D have, too, but they react similar to before because both changes have taken place”.

What do I mean by that? Well, even at the end of vol. 10 I can’t quite yet see Leon telling D to not call for help for Leon, just so D won’t end up in a potentially dangerous situation. Equally, Jill’s answer to Leon’s question about D seems to imply that he is presumed dead, so it’s fair to assume that D, after pushing Leon back into the human world, was _not_ the one alerting the paramedics to his unconscious and injured body presumably lying around somewhere in the proximity of the tower. They have both been pushed further in terms of character development, both by the events of D and the events in this story, so the ends they are willing to go to are different this time around.

The question is, have they been pushed far enough for D to stay?

4) Cliffhanger!

Breaking the whole chapter off there is of course simply yet another ploy to keep readers guessing, and therefore a typical cliffhanger. You may have noticed that I used those to some extent in no less than three out of eight chapters. It would not have been necessary, as some of those chapters could have been combined into one (even if they would have made very long chapters in that case), so it is purely reader manipulation that I was aiming for, because of course, making use of cliffhangers, even if the chapter itself did not contain a lot of action, will generally (and hopefully) result in the reader’s pulse picking up again at the end of it. Excitement without having to write action sequences!

Which gave me the opportunity to do a repeat performance of the end of volume 10 … with a variation ^^

**Notes on tropes for Chapter 8**

1) Moping Introspection

Not my favourite trope either, but useful in some cases. After all, the cliffhanger from the previous chapter needed to be resolved, and it needed to be resolved in a way that would lead readers to not suspect the twist of the last few paragraphs (although I’m willing to bet quite a few people were expecting it simply on the premise that a reunion fic _cannot end with them not being reunited!_ ^^ Well, it could have. And as I said previously, I was very tempted to do just that). So Leon gets to be a bit mopey and ponder everything that has happened as well as his future actions, while at the same time conveniently providing readers with all the information they need to tie up some loose ends (what happened to Spencer Donald, did he get arrested, did D manage to get away, and so on and so forth).

I’m about as fond of this trope/story device as I am of the Mind-Changing Conversation, although I like how this one turned out well enough, I guess. I’ve certainly written worse. Plus, I got to introduce Yang Wen and the wonderful Madame Maréchal, which was definitely nice ^^

However, the whole thing is only there for one single purpose, and that is the

2) Ultimate Reunion!

Yes, finally, after all the fuss, the injuries and the emotional upheaval, they get their ultimate reunion! In Lyon instead of Rome, and it’s D who’s followed Leon to where he lives now, and Leon hasn’t got to give up anything, and Interpol still has a file on D, but hey, they get around to it eventually. And, well, Chris’s drawing is still waiting to be returned, because apparently Leon hasn’t got it in his office either – still, let me ask you this: Does it still matter as much as before at this point?

Taken in combination with the first trope, this chapter is one of the better final chapters I have written so far, I think, for it provides a great place to kick off in case I decide to write a sequel, but also works as a concluding chapter if I never get around to it. That is because most of the questions pertaining to the actual plot of the story are answered, but as far as the aspects hidden in the preceding chapters are concerned – questions concerning D’s refusal to even consider letting Leon back into his life, what exactly he is afraid of, what Leon’s life has looked like since D left, and a few more –, they remain unanswered. Which means they provide a good basis for a sequel – which is kinda important if one isn’t just gonna write episodic fic, by which I mean fiction where the story starts and concludes within the same story instead of following an overarching plot or at least train of thought.

And now that there’s finally no more excitement left to squeeze out of the story, it ends. No, there are no more chapters forthcoming. No, there will be no description of the first shared tea-time in the Lyon shop, because here ends the task I set myself when I started writing _An Italian Job (of sorts)._ And yes, part of that task was producing a variation on the series’ original ending. This scene was actually one of the very first I wrote, along with the chronologically first scene. I knew from the start that I wanted to play around with not only tropes I often see in reunion fics, but also with reader expectations of how it _should_ be going. You are the judges of whether I succeeded; for my part, it was great fun to write it, and thank you for reading, commenting and leaving kudos ^^


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